


The Great Divide

by parxsisburnixg



Series: Star Wars [1]
Category: Original Work, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Stimulation, Adopted Children, Age Difference, Alliances, Arranged Marriage, Assassination, Assassination Plot(s), Backstory, Betrayal, Blood Loss, Brutal Murder, Character Development, Character Study, Child Neglect, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Coming of Age, Coruscant (Star Wars), Courting Rituals, Courtship, Cruelty, Elections, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Betrayal - Freeform, Family Secrets, Fate & Destiny, Fear, Fear of Discovery, Feuds, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Sensitivity, Force Visions, Forced Bonding, Foreshadowing, Gray Force User(s), Hiding, Hunting, Hurt, Identity Issues, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Inspired by Game of Thrones, Inspired by Music, Marriage of Convenience, Master/Slave, Mental Link, Mind Games, Mindfuck, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Older Man/Younger Woman, Pain, Passion, Planet Naboo (Star Wars), Plotting for War, Political Alliances, Political Campaigns, Politics, Powerful Families, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Predator/Prey, Psychological Horror, Rage, Rape, Secret Identity, Secrets, Seduction, Semipublic Sex, Senators, Silence, Spying, Stockholm Syndrome, Survival Training, Telekinesis, The Dark Side of the Force, The Force, Underage - Freeform, Unrequited Hate, Visions in dreams, Voyeurism, accidental injury, betrothal, greed - Freeform, mated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 46,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22128547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parxsisburnixg/pseuds/parxsisburnixg
Summary: Rewrite and revision of this first installment. Set three years before "The Phantom Menace," this begins the tale of how a Coruscant senator's daughter becomes hunted by one she cannot see. Throughout the years as she grows and becomes educated of both Sith and Jedi lore, she finds herself distrusting those around her for fear of her own safety. This fanfiction is told of an original female character empowered with Force sensitivity, but as one who cares not for neither Jedi or Sith. This was inspired by the "Game of Thrones" soundtracks, and this is mostly about how Valorum's reign as Supreme Chancellor begins to descend and come to an end, and also of how Palpatine utterly ruins her and her family once and for all. 18+
Relationships: Finis Valorum/Original Female Character(s), Sheev Palpatine/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Star Wars [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2149254
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	1. The Innocence of Youth

**Author's Note:**

> JESUS JUMPED-UP CHRIST.
> 
> This is the second time I've had to rewrite this story, because not only did I just see "The Rise of Skywalker" on New Year's Eve, I realized I had my timeline and years completely off-balanced. That's what I hate about this series. The years are so damn confusing, and if a writer does a shit job at creating a decent timeline, it's basically up to the fans and others to try and piece together when events happened. Needless to say, this is my take on a certain storyline. 
> 
> The taboo subjects of rape, murder and such are included in these works, and this sure as hell wouldn't be the "Star Wars" that Disney would allow obviously. But fuck the Disney sequels— those are ultimately stupid in my opinion, and while I saw "The Rise of Skywalker" for Palpatine's return alone, I don't accept those as canon, thus they do not exist to me. However, there will be some minor references to "The Rise of Skywalker." I'm still trying to figure out all the years to make this sound legitimate, too. Please be patient with me!
> 
> I do not own these characters save for my originals, and everything else belongs to George Lucas and Lucasfilm. This isn't written for profit, and please do not chastise me. Again, I would not do that to you so please don't do it to me. 
> 
> Also, Palpatine's a real bastard in this. He's worse than what you see in the films. That's just my way of fleshing how just how evil this man really is. V-C3 is a droid of my own creation, and the face claim for my pre-adolescent character Víariya is Mackenzie Foy. Her adult face claim is Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey.

**-35 BBY-**

She remembered the past three summers spent on Naboo. The waters, the mountains, countryside— all were still as fresh on the day she had been born. She could recollect the scent of its crisp air, the scent of the flowers among the water. She remembered all the flora that bloomed there, and she had always cherished the small white flowers that had grown in the wild. Even now, she remembered how she had played with the others where the cambylictus trees had grown. The memories of meeting all the strange, wonderful Gungan there always remained fondly to her. She had always adored learning from different cultures, experiencing new things. For those she had missed, they perhaps had forgotten about her. She was nobody where she was now. She was only the daughter of yet another senator.

On Coruscant, nothing but carbonite-enforced structures and metal fashioned into an entire ecumenopolis remained. Skyscrapers and towering buildings such as the one she stood in now were undeniably visible, and bridges and elevated platforms were spread across the way as far as the eye could see. Throughout the skies, shuttlecrafts now hummed through the openness with an electric whirring she had not been able to escape. Pods, starships, they all plowed through the skies as well, and the sights of the fading sun's glimmer shone against the metal framework. The building themselves were as tall as the clouds at their antennas, and the tallest building in which she now stood was a staggering 1,010 stories high. She could feel the change in the altitude, how light-headed she felt, and as she stood out on the balcony of their apartment, she lingered at the rail. 

Looking out, she saw just how precipitous the fall truly was. Below the streets and causeways seemed like mere lines so thin one could barely see them. With the sounds entering her ears and with the height giving her fright, she felt she would fall at any given moment. Stepping backward, she exhaled. Her small figure held itself and she wished she was far away from the congested planet. The sight of shuttlecraft that flew through the air reminded her that she was not alone. She was surrounded by strangers by the trillion, and as she remained at the rail, she rested her chin on her arms. The fading sunset made the skies bleed from red to purple, from faded yellows to the colors of darkened blue; the four moons began to peak through the colors of the atmosphere as well. She saw the alignments of Centax-1, Centax-2, Centax-3, and Hesperidium rather clearly, even though they were thousands of miles above her. As the temperature began to drop in the cool eve, her skin grew paler and cold. As she looked down, the miles gathered together and gave her a sense of fright. 

She looked out towards the direction of the Senate Building and wondered when he would come home. It had been hours since she last saw him, and with the night steadfast approaching, she knew all the other senators and representatives would be coming home soon. She saw how brightened the building was from afar, and as she waited, a household droid came into the proximity of the balcony with her. Its tall, rusted structure rolled up to her and hummed beside her as it offered her a heavy shawl. It wrapped it around her small shoulders, and as she felt it weigh her down, she felt a sense of loneliness overcome her. The droid took notice then of a tear shed from the corner of her left eye.

"There appears to be a leakage of bodily fluid from your lacrimal glands, Mistress Víariya. Shall I fetch a medical droid for your convenience?"

She looked at the droid and with a half-absent smile, shook her head and pondered aloud. "Tears are normal for a human to shed, V-C3. They are shed when humans need to keep their immune system healthy, or when they're sad or in pain, they cry. It is a part of human biology."

The droid's head twitched to and fro as it craned in small directions. "What is the cause for the young mistress' tears then?"

In truth, she felt overwhelmed. She had not been sure of it herself, but in dreams, in visions, she saw her future for what it was. She did not wish to convey it to V-C3, for fear he would relay the news of her distress to her father. V-C3 saw how her skin became riddled with gooseflesh, and thus thinking that she needed to be fueled. In its settings, the droid believed that humans were, in a way, in need of replenishment like they were. It went inside quickly, retrieved a glass, and began to brew fresh tea for her. The smell of it reached her nostrils and in her little stance, she stood there shivering until the droid returned. Beside her once more, it held out the glass and allowed her to take it from its animatronic hand. The steam reverberated off the surface of the tea, and as she carefully took it in both hands, she blew on it, drank it, and kept looking off into the distance where the Senate Building was.

"Do you think he'll come home soon, V-C3?" she asked.

The droid's blue lights became focused on her. The circular orbs looked at her and recorded her every internal rhythm, her facial features and it tracked the sound of her heartbeat. It seemed slower than usual, and that gave the memory of his order to return to its central processing unit, as set forth by her father before she first arrived. To serve and protect, that was what his agenda was. As he remembered her question, he answered her with the hum of an echo to its tone. "I would assume so, young mistress. He will return sooner than you think."

Víariya, as she was christened at birth, stood more closely to V-C3 and rested her small head on his shoulder. The winds blew through her hair and as she looked over the rail over and over again, her eyes grew tired. She finished her tea and waited, and before she could keep her full composure, she felt herself slumping where she stood. The droid recognized she was tired, and as she dropped the glass, he reached out and took her into his arms. He wrapped one appendage behind her back, the other beneath her legs. The long length of her black hair lingered in the breeze. It brushed past the droid's rusted frame, and as it took her inside, her dreams began to flow once more through her mind. V-C3 placed her inside her bedroom. He pulled the covers to rest over her chest, and as her head rested comfortably on the pillows, he doused the lamps in her room and left her to sleep. As she began to dream, she saw them once more— a pair of vicious yellow eyes peered beneath a hood and stared into her consciousness, rendering her fearful of the future and the years to come.

\---

As she lay sleeping in her bed, she kept grasping the edge of the pillow in her hand. She slightly thrashed, tossed and turned, and as she inhaled deeply, the visions she had now were a placid black. As she ventured through the darkness in her vision, she saw falling snow come around her. There were no trees, no forest, only an emptiness that seemed devoid of life, save for herself. Her bare feet trekked her through the softness of the white snow, and as she approached something dark, enlarged, and utterly bleak. The dark cracks of the stone before her seemed all too ancient, but yet, this was something she had not dreamed of before. It was all new and she had not seen it once. 

Even as she walked towards this strange structure in her dream, she saw the outlines of its creation as bolts of lightning flashed over her head. There were damning, sharp spikes on the back of the structure, each one tremulous and decrepit in their large sizes. As she reached its proximity, she discovered what it was. It was indeed a throne. As for how long it had been there, she did not know. She spied the seat carved into the essence of the stone, and it gave her such an ominous feeling. The scent of the snow entered her nostrils, but so did the scent of another liquid. It was one fresh, viscous, and imbued with the aroma of iron. It was not of the true metal, but rather, it smelled of blood. Where she walked, the sight of it appeared black as it began to form and pool beneath her.

 _"What is this?"_ she questioned. _"Why am I seeing blood?"_

Pain and fear ensued in her heart. She trembled before the throne and the blood, and as she began to back away, she heard a voice enter her ears. It was a thick, lowly growl, combined with the essence of seduction. The tone dripped with venomous honey, and to her, it was the voice of a man. She turned around and looked around fervently. No one was there, but the voice was still speaking to her. As she stood in her small stature, she felt a pair of invisible lips at her ear. No physical presence was there, but she could feel it entirely.

_"You have more power than you realize. You can see things that have yet to come to fruition, and as surely as you see all of this, you know in your heart it will become reality. Whether you be alive or dead when it happens, that remains yet to be seen. I know what you are, soft one. I can feel the presence inside you. It lingers in your breast, in your spirit, your heart. It makes you a vulnerable and delectable morsel, just waiting to be devoured."_

Her small voice cracked as she replied. "What are you? Why do you speak to me and taunt me?"

She immediately stepped to the side and backed away. For the voice of a grown man to enter the ear of a seventeen-year-old in such a dark, tempting manner, it was immoral. It frightened her as it would any child. Snow continued to fall on her dark hair, and as she grew cold, her skin shivered. The whiteness slowly faded away and as the winds picked up, all light faded. The lightning stopped flashing and only thunder remained. Turning to face away from the throne in her vision, she saw them glow once more. Eyes of yellow, gnarled and unyielding, stared across the way from her and pierced the veil of blackness. Her heart throbbed into her throat and caused her eyes to well with tears. 

"No. No, I don't want to see you!"

 _"Yes, my sweet,"_ the voice responded. _"You_ ** _will_** _look into these eyes. Your confidence from this point on will be shattered, and I will be the one who watches you always. You may try to sleep if you can. Just know that when you do, I will be there. You are mine."_

The eyes grew brighter in their disturbing colors, and as she tried to scream, her throat tensed and she was lifted off the ground. Nothing held her there physically, and as she choked, she tried to claw at her neck and release herself. She levitated towards the throne then as she saw the burning of the eyes grow. Her lips parted and tried to call out with some kind of horror. Tears flowed from her eyes and she felt the breath of the individual at her neck then. Before she could finally scream, her mouth parted and became parched. The nothingness consumed her and wrapped itself around her. The gnashing of teeth against flesh ensued then, and she felt her own blood pool to the surface. As the unseen mouth clasped itself to her neck, she felt drained of life. Her veins felt empty, her limbs cold. Her eyes closed and she felt her jaw quiver.

As her heartbeat grew faint, the back of her head was cradled then. Staring upward through half-opened eyes, she found herself staring at the shapes of the yellow she saw. The irises were flame-like and the pupils were hollow and black. She felt weightless and as she felt her heart sink further into her chest, she was released. The sensation of falling coursed through her and the air blew against her. Everything faded around her and the moment she hit 'hard,' she awoke with a terror she had never felt before. Sweat cleansed her flesh and she woke with tears flowing and her throat hoarse. She prayed with all she was that she never had to see those eyes again.

\---

V-C3 was there before she could even open her eyes fully. He recognized the sight of blood and knew it to be toxicity that should never be left untreated on a human; he rushed her and withdrew from his internal compartment a piece of gauze, some bacterial spray, and he began to tend to her. Through tears, she fought back the urge to cry aloud. He did not mean to cause her further pain, but he had no choice but to keep her as docile as possible. She sat upright and pulled her hair back, whereas the spray coaxed onto her small wound. There under the fluorescent lighting was a bite mark. An arrangement of crooked teeth marks sent the droid into a panic. It was not infested, not infected, but he worried for her. Carefully continuing the process of cleaning the bite, he became alert. The bacterial spray was the first aid, and when he sprayed it, she winced only slightly.

"What caused this, little mistress?" he asked. 

Panic incapacitated her as her voice cracked. "I don't know, V-C3. I can't explain it. You won't tell my father, will you?"

He removed his digits from her neck and put away the bacterial spray. "Mistress, he programmed me to document and detail any vital changes in your emotion, health or stability. I must report this to him."

She nodded slowly as she hung her head. "I understand."

The tears trickled off the tip of her nose, and as V-C3 saw those tears, he rolled forward and gently brushed them off of her. For a droid, he seemed human almost. He had been there since she was born, and he had always attended to her. He was the only friend and companion she had. He brushed her tears away and bandaged the gauze carefully to her neck. Once finished, he brought the shawl to rest gently on her small shoulders. Víariya sat up further and moved to the side. While the pain remained in her neck, it also grew dull. The bacterial spray had been enough to coax the physical pain away, but emotionally, she felt distraught. It was the first time she had ever experienced anything like that. Knowing that she was prey made her want to leave Coruscant all the more. She did not feel safe on the planet. The ecumenopolis was wide, vast, and if this stranger knew she was here, what were her chances of safety? Of survival?

If he could peer into her mind, her pre-adolescent mind, it worried her that he might know where she was. If he discovered where she lived, it would haunt her till the end of her days. V-C3 saw the fear in her soft brown eyes, and as she removed herself from her bed, she threw the shawl on and raced rather quickly to her father's bedroom. In the senatorial design, there she waited. The droid stood at the door of the bedroom and guarded it. As she lay there on the bed, she looked out of the bedroom window. The moons shined brightly now and helped to cast dark shadows. Her heartbeat raced as she lay there on the bed, and more so, she dreamed of home, she dreamed of Naboo. Outside the windows, the stringed procession of shuttlecrafts continued on. One broke away from the line and began to head towards the building. She saw the colors of their family on the shuttle, and she knew then that her father was coming home. The sound of its hum entered her ears as it drew closer. Lights emitted from its exterior and gave a signal to others to steer clear. Fear, sadness, love— all consumed her heart. Whether or not father would understand her recent trauma, that was yet to be seen.


	2. Games of Politics (Part One)

The thick warmth of the blanket kept her safe and secure. With the weighted heaviness, she was enveloped in the fabric and did not move unless to turn onto her abdomen. The droid was grateful that she was finally able to sleep, and as the bandages began to wear, he gently peeled it off of her as she continued to lie there soundly. V-C3 examined the mark on her throat and saw that the swelling had gone down. The spray had corrected the redness around the wound, and with a swipe of yet another antibacterial, the possibility for any germs to congest inside would be eliminated. As the droid waited and tended to her, it was then that the front doors of the apartment opened. The doors slid open slowly and the Senator walked inside. A tall, tanned man, he bore the look of sleepless nights; his dark eyes were aligned with dark circles, and his brows gave shade to his peppered lashes. Lines of age remained on either side of his mouth, and his long, braided hair was whitened. For all that he knew, he was tired in his old age. However, in durations of the Senate meetings, they were long, tedious hours.

The debate of politics seemed to go on endlessly. With the knowledge of the Trade Federation's growing discrepancies, they were beginning to face a problem that required all senators and representatives to come together. It was a dastardly business indeed, but it was the only life he had known, for he had been born into a political family all the same. It seemed a loathsome birthright, but one he would muster through nonetheless. The millennia-old house of the Anrínu bloodline had always been sworn to serve the Republic. From each father to son, they pledged themselves to serve the greater cause. As the forty-fifth year of his servitude entered its peak, the hour then struck eleven-thirty in the evening. The Senator walked through his den, and V-C3 approached his humble master. The older gentleman reached out and pat the droid on his shoulder, whereas he began to walk towards his bedroom. Confused, the droid trotted along behind his master.

"And how is my daughter?" the elderly male asked. "Is she asleep, V-C3?"

The droid nervously replied. "Y-yes, Senator, she is asleep. She went to bed not even two hours ago. As always, she insisted on waiting for you. I told her it is beneficial for a human pre-adolescent child to at least endure eight hours of sleep..."

Inside the shadows of the bedroom, her eyes were closed. She remained there on her side, and she hid her neck with the shawl she still had with her. She lay there listening to them converse and her heart raced the whole time. The footsteps of her father grew louder as he approached, and when he entered, the lights slowly began to turn on. Her dark hair lay sprawled out over the pillows and she seemed restless. She too had developed dark circles. The Senator took notice of her and approached his own bed, a smile cracking onto his elderly face. He sat beside her and she turned onto her side. His gloved hand touched the side of her soft face, and without opening her eyes, she sat up rather efficiently, curling into his chest then as he embraced her. She shivered into his chest. 

"V-C3, I wonder if you would be good enough to take her back to her room. After that, I wish for you to join me in my small office. There is something I wish to discuss with you," Anrínu stated.

The droid did as he was asked. He swept an arm underneath the girl's legs once more and wrapped a metal appendage around her back; he silently and quickly wheeled her into her bedroom, tucking her in and allowing the door to slide shut behind him. V-C3 joined his master in the office without hesitation. The Senator sat behind a curved white desk with his hands folded beneath his chin. He was lost in a subsequent thought. With his mouth cracked with an uncertain frown to it, he sighed. 

"V-C3, what I am about to tell you must stay between us," he said.

The droid nodded. "Yes, Senator Anrínu. What is it?"

The Senator cleared his throat once and sat firmly against the back of his chair. With his eyes focused on the bare desktop, a slow blink of his eyes indicated to the droid that he was unsure.

"Chancellor Valorum's reign is tarnished. I know that somehow, all the bureaucrats inside the Senate are working against him. I have heard rumors. I have heard a fellow senator from Naboo is preparing to sweep them away with a rousing oration, suggesting that the problems we face are not being met with great precision and that Valorum should perhaps be removed. I know that a challenge against the office is being put together. Whether or not this is true, I do not know. However, I have made the decision to return Víariya to our summer home on Naboo. She will be safe there. If I am fortunate enough to uncover those who are trying to worm their way through the Senate, I must protect her with all that I am. She will be marked if she stays here, and I tell you this now— _I will not leave my daughter here to die_."

"What do you believe is happening, Master?"

He shook his head slowly and lowered his shoulders, his body language presenting itself as numb, unsure. "I believe there is a double agent working within the Senate. The talks of trade taxation have aroused the Senate members with anger and distrust. Whether or not this agent is a part of Valorum's administration remains to be seen. If there is indeed an informant, he or she must be punished. We should not allow betrayal to go unrivaled and unchecked. It is far too dangerous in this day and age to be so ignorant."

V-C3 grew quiet. His machinery stopped humming loudly, and instead, softened as a few settings were set below their normal capacities of function. It appeared that he entered a silent mode. The gears of his wheels almost quaked and grew noisily with a grunt of mechanical groans. If a droid or any other piece of machinery could act like a human, then V-C3 acted with the sensibility of a being who had become frightened or confused. He clasped his metal palms together and blinked his blue 'eyes.' 

"When will the little mistress go back home?" the droid asked.

It did not take Anrínu long to reply. "As soon as I can muster an unmarked shuttle. But for now, she stays here in this apartment on lockdown. If she must go anywhere, it will be at my side as my designated representative. I wish she did not have to endure this dance of politics, but sooner or later, V-C3, people have to grow up."

-

The next morning when she awoke, she was dressed by a different droid who then did her hair. Wild, intricate braids sat behind her head and were woven carefully to rest in the thick flow of her black har. She wore a high-collared dress the colors of their house, symbolic with medium shades of blue and storm grays long attractive to the public eye of Coruscant. V-C3 waited patiently outside her bedroom, and when the other droid was finished making her look presentable, he ushered her to the den where her father waited. Her head hung lowly. She did not feel like herself, and she loathed the trips to the Grand Convocation Chamber with her father. She felt like a pariah and as the voice inside her mind had told her before, she was naught but a morsel just waiting to be eaten. 

_I am an Anrínu. My blood is graced with his surname, and I have vowed to love him and cherish his wisdom, for he is my only parent in this world. If I show weakness, then what sort of a representative will I be for him, for our people? He is right. All children must grow eventually and I know that childhood cannot remain in me anymore. Now is the time. Now is the hour_ , she thought to herself.

As she stepped out into the den, dressed as a political advocate to escort her father, she saw his brown eyes gleam with respect and appreciation. He held an arm out to her, and in her slender, adorned stance, she held an arm out and wrapped it around his in return. Compared to him, she was small. She was still a child, but with a woman's heart and mind. She felt frozen in space and could not muster the words to speak half the time, but somehow, instinctively and intellectually, it came to her. She was slowly letting the child that she was finally dying, and she was allowing a woman to come forward and blossom. As they began to reach the platform where their transport waited, the winds blew through her braids and she felt herself to be changing. It was an internal change, but one true nonetheless. As she saw the crafts of Coruscant flying all around, her mind became soft and sharp. 

She was afraid of the future, but at the same time, she was hopeful. If the Senate could learn to come together and bond, to learn how to defeat an enemy and outsmart them with precise cunning and calculation, the galaxy perhaps stood a chance. A slight chance, but one that she was willing to risk herself for.

-

Once they had arrived at the Senate Building, hundreds of representatives stared at her as they entered. Many strange species were gathered there inside, and she noticed them by their distinguishable features. Neimoidians had their matte-red eyes and gnarled green skin. The Zabrak representatives had their numerous horns, markings, and of course, there were Twi'leks and Chagrians in attendance as well. Bountiful dark robes were amassed in view, and the many eyes of all those present pierced her young form. A child she was, yet there in the sight of all who saw her, she was dressed as a full-grown representative would be. She wore no rouge, no pale foundation, for her youth had ascertained her innocence. Senator Anrínu gathered his daughter to his arm. 

She looked up at him with her eyes teeming with self-control, and as she was escorted towards the Grand Convocation Chamber, he spoke lowly. 

"And now, my daughter, we are once again set to attend a Senate meeting. I must ask you to be calm, collective, and to pay attention, please. I will do everything to protect you. I just want you to experience the real world."

In her small stance, one eye almost filled with a tear. Her heart sank in her chest, and as the emotions registering from each individual flooded her, her mind began to speak within its confines.

_The real world is full of danger, Papa. If we were to experience the truths of all the dangers in this world, we would be separated. I would be sold, raped, and you would be made a civil servant to a higher monster. Our paths would never cross again. I just hope you realize that I understand this. Nevertheless, I shall heed your words. I love you too much to lose you. You are all I have._

The doors opened and before her, the repulsorpods hovered before them in a substantial gathering. One-thousand and twenty-one of them were aligned in a circular shape all around the vast complex. Light blue shades shone among the lights, and the light grey of the metals held the foundations up rather coldly. Together, the two of them entered the platform and it began to hover into an empty slot. The vast space in which they passed through seemed indefinite. While the other members of the Senate were opposite them in different pods, she felt smothered. More so, the wound on her neck began to register a burning sensation. It signaled to her that danger was coming, or at the very least, that the monster responsible for the bite mark was already there in the chamber with her.

\---

The Chagrian speaker wasted no time in delivering a rather long oration. She was content as she sat behind her father, who in turn rose and spoke his piece once or twice. Others collaborated together on what should be done for the taxations, but none could reach a definite decision. Víariya's eyes carefully viewed those in attendance. She knew that the Neimoidians opposite her were bloodthirsty when it came to the leagues of business. She was unsure of them, as she had never trusted their thoughts or their matted-red eyes. The Chagrian, whose eyes remained upon her solely, stood and banged his staff against the floor of the podium. The Chancellor himself remained silent for the time being, as one in the audience cried out. The sounds grew tumultuous and gave her an internal fright.

"We want peace, not war!" a Twi'lek representative spoke. "Is it so hard to imagine an absolution to this problem? Already those who are dealing with the traders of distant planets are in league with the Federation. They are gathering intel against benevolent planets from what I've heard. Can we do anything to stop a future invasion at all?"

The thousands clamored with a hushed tone at first, then grew louder as the debates impacted the feeling of the room. Many of them faced each other and spoke in their foreign languages, or in the human tongue, but it was all too clear that the sound was full of uncertainty and fear combined. Víariya looked down at the podium from over her shoulder. She saw Valorum standing there, nonchalant perhaps and quiet. She wondered if he even knew what he was doing, and if not, then she worried for Coruscant, for her beloved Naboo and all those who lived there and everywhere. In her mind, she heard screams of innocents from afar and all across the galaxy; their panic and desolation grew more solemn as she closed her eyes. Flashes of red consumed her internal sight. Her heartbeat grew more frantic as she clutched her chest. Screams of children her age and younger suddenly entered her ears. Her concentration on the harrowing visions was broken the moment her father began to speak.

"Even if we did find a solution, the Supreme Chancellor must elaborate on this and express his plans for Coruscant, and perhaps for the rest of the galaxy. Not only is Naboo upon a prime trading route, but those in the Federation are also always looking for those who are glad to become spies. We must do something about this. It's crucial that we protect the very sanctity of the trade routes and those involved while defending ourselves. If we don't, they'll overrun us and create blockades around many planets. They will even attempt to control system politics as well. We cannot let ourselves be met with oppression!"

Valorum stood then and offered a few choice words. "Senator Anrínu is right. He understands this as well as any of you do. I must agree that he is better versed in seeing these problems better than I. Though in my stead as Supreme Chancellor, I have already encountered rumors of a harsh bureaucracy growing within my administration. Until I have found those responsible for the attempted perjury of the Senate positions here, I hereby name Senator Anrínu has my designated assistant in these matters. Whatever transpires, he shall have an equal say in the matter as I. The meeting is hereby adjourned."

Víariya's eyes were still closed. As she listened to the voices of the men echo, she saw more shapes and figures within her mind. The blackness slowly peered into white lighting, and as she studied closely the foundations of her visions, she saw Naboo. She saw their summer home and the trellis of flowers; as she stood underneath it, a man ushered himself towards her and took her hand. It was not her father, and nor was it anyone she recognized. She was full-grown in the vision and she saw herself smiling innocently. The man before her was perhaps a few inches taller with a distinguished profile. A nose carved with a sharp shape, lips thin, hair thick with a mullet of waves and a chin dented. She felt the presence he gave and felt unsure. To her, it was too early yet to determine what he was truly like, for her vision was merely dream-like. All she knew was that in the vision, she felt warm, embraced with newfound desires and life. She did not feel as cold as she did before. 

Her father's voice jolted her then out of her visions, and she opened her brown eyes slowly. Peering into his, she took his hand and stood. "Let's go home, Papa. I am tired."

"Yes," he chortled. "I can see that."

As the two of them exited their repulsorpod, they began to make their way towards the entrance of the building. The hundreds of senators and their representatives passed them, but one stood out among the rest. Her eyes did not look away from the man she saw. She became vexed and astounded by his appearance. He stood at five foot ten, matching the description of the blackened silhouette she had seen in her vision. His face was not completely exposed to her. His back was turned, and she saw that he had reddish-grey hair. She was curious to see the full view of his face, but before she could gaze at him, her father ushered her closely.

"Be careful, daughter. Some people are not what they seem."


	3. Games of Politics (Part Two)

As they returned home, the door to the building was slightly ajar. The glass around the fragmented door was shattered. Sharp shards lay everywhere, and the guards were there, inspecting everything, and searching for everyone. Her brown eyes grew wide as she smelled fresh blood on the air. Someone had been wounded at the very least. Small drops of red stood out amidst the glass that was broken. Whether or not this person was on the brink of death, she did not know. The Senator clasped his daughter to his person, and in return, she wrapped her arms around his velvet-clad waist. Her heartbeat quickened as did her pulse. For those who also lived in 500 Republica, they were aghast and concerned, primarily about whether or not their valuable possessions had been stolen or not. In her heart, she knew that someone was looking for something. If not, they were searching for another being, another person. The essence of fear was overwhelming, and she could see it on the faces of all those present. 

More visions flooded through her. She closed her eyes and concentrated as she heard screams of a woman echo through her. Only now, they were not screams unfamiliar to her; they were her adult screams, and the sound of sheer terror was intimate against her collarbone, her throat, and her heart. It reverberated through her entire small body, especially as she saw flames and scourges on a distant planet. A young man held a weapon that cast a red plasmic force, and as the screams of children ran through her again, those haunting yellow eyes stared at her through the dark once more. She clutched onto her father's hand tightly then. Her breath became hitched in her throat and as the yellow eyes drew closer, followed by a dark, hooded shape, she opened her eyes as she felt a pain between her legs.

"V-C3?" Senator Anrínu called out. "V-C3, where are you?"

She grew concerned as the commotion began. In her small stature, she broke away from her father. She charged past other senators and their consorts, pushing somewhat frantically as her eyes looked all around for their droid. The Senator tried to reach for her, but she moved too fast for his old hand to catch her. "Víariya! Daughter, please come back here!"

She did not listen. As she swept past numerous men and women, a hand caught her shoulder. It was not metallic as she was hoping it would be, but instead, it was a hand warm, made of flesh and bone. Looking up over her shoulder, she saw the familiar robes she had seen but half an hour earlier. She gasped as he turned her to face him. He knelt before her, and placing both hands on her arms, she stilled and grew quiet. Brown eyes peered into shifting blues. The Romanesque profile she had slightly seen now was full and apparent in view. Her lips quivered and her eyes grew entranced. As the older male smiled before her, there was something unseen in his eyes. It was something she did not understand. His thumb brushed her arm then and lowly, carefully, he spoke to her.

"Why do you flee, dear one? Have you been separated from your father?" he asked.

"I am looking for my droid. His name is V-C3."

The men and women who stood all around them delivered hushed whispers. For one so much older to be holding one so young, so fair, they all believed him to be a deviant though his intentions were not yet foreseen. Silence collided between them and nothing but words of internal warning signaled to her. They were quiet orations, and as she stepped closer to touch his face, she felt her irises burn. Nothing had ever felt quite inflamed before, but she felt nothing but curiosity course through her. The half-exposed laugh lines upon his face brushed her own thumb. In her child-like stance, she tilted her head. He captivated her. She did not feel threatened by him, and as the people around them backed away, a shadow overcame their figures. Her father took her by the arm and pulled her back. Her hand left the other man's face and returned to her own lips, her knuckles brushing over her mouth.

The other man stood with his blue-green senatorial robes flowing around him. He seemed a monumental figure, one shrouded so that he appeared to float and not walk as human men would in a single stride. Her eyes would not leave him and as she felt drawn to him, her father's accent rippled through the atmosphere and broke the tension, thus creating more than what was desired. 

"What gives you the right to speak to my daughter?" 

The faintest accent of a Naboo dialect entered her ears. _He is of my people_ , she thought. _He comes from the same planet. I wonder if he remembers the waters of Lake Country as well as I do._

"Senator Anrínu, I bid you and your family no ill will," he laughed. "The young one came running out of nowhere and so I stopped her before she was apprehended by the guards. Tell me— is it a usual practice for a father to leave his child unattended?"

The older men stared at each other with unyielding eyes. Their gazes burned deeply, and she felt the tension growing, felt an indisputable rage and distrust grow between them. Finally, the silence was broken as a familiar robotic voice entered their ears.

"Master! Oh, Mistress Víariya, thank goodness you both are safe. The building was broken into by Federation spies! I saw the symbol upon their satchels. It appears they were searching for someone. They held guns in hand."

"All the more reason to keep her safe," the man said. "You would not want her death on her hands now, would you, Anrínu?"

V-C3 intervened and took her into his slender metal arms. She did not break her gaze from him, and though he spoke with distinctive displeasure, she did not feel as though he meant her harm. She burrowed against the droid's chest cavity and felt herself growing tired. Her father stiffened his upper lip and shook his head, exhaling with a low growl. He stepped back and began to escort his droid and his daughter inside. Víariya's black hair blew in the winds as they picked up. As she wrapped her arms around V-C3's 'neck,' the man bowed his head to her and she saw how clear the blue of his irises was under the fluorescent lighting outside. She saw how the waves of his reddish-grey hair blew in the winds as well. The scent of his cologne entered her nostrils on the air, and she felt herself falling asleep. His figure became blurred, and the moment the refurnished doors closed, he left her sight and her lids closed.

\---

"Federation scum came through this building, and you did not think to report them to the guards, V-C3? Surely you haven't forgotten the vows you took when you swore to serve and protect this family?"

Tears fell from her eyes as she opened them halfway. She hated hearing her father's voice carry in a loud ring of anger, and the thought of his grimace remained. She lay under her covers with her hands under her left cheek. _Please, Papa,_ she thought again. _Please do not yell at V-C3. He doesn't understand. He is only a machine._

The droid replied with a defeated tone. "Yes, sir. I remember the vows well, and I also remember the order you gave me as well. Were you not the one who told me to—?"

"Do not cite my orders to me, droid. I was the one who programmed you. I am the master and you are the servant. Your duties are to my daughter and to me."

"Yes, Senator."

What orders? What duties? Her mind was racing and she could not stop trying to comprehend what was happening. She lay there still as ever and yet as she looked out of the window, she saw flashing searchlights roam the skies of Coruscant. Patrol shuttles coursed through the open traffic routes. Their loud mechanisms shook the outer pane of glass, and as she continued to think, she remembered the smell of the other senator's cologne. It was one made of Coruscant flora, that she knew. She remembered the scent all too well and it made her feel more or less homesick. Her small fingers wriggled through the strands of her dark hair as she dreamt of Naboo. 

As she thought of her father's anger, she had never experienced him to be so disappointed. It frightened her and she did not know what it would truly entail. She closed her eyes again and tried to sleep. Her head was pounding now with a headache she could not stand, and as she heard her father and V-C3 speak to each other, the same visions repeated in her mind. She saw them for what they were and inwardly, she accepted them as warnings of fate.

\---

"Víariya? Are you awake, daughter?"

She turned over in her bed and pulled the covers from down over her head. Her father stood in the doorway with a melancholy look to his face. His thick black brows were pulled together in an upward frown, and as he entered her bedroom, she sat up and curled the blankets around her shoulders. 

"What is it, Papa?" she asked, her voice groggy. "Is everything alright?"

He came around the corner of her bed and sat down beside her. He took one of her small pale hands into his tanned palms, and as he brought her knuckles close to his lips, she curled up to him sleepily. She yawned lightly and nuzzled into his chest. He saw how small and innocent she was. Before she had gone to bed, she had woven tiny blue-violet flowers into her dark hair. As a pin held back her hair, the small bunch of flowers sat there holding the locks out of her face. The soft roundness of her cheeks was exposed, and he lowered his head down to kiss her forehead. The decision he had reached was not a light one. He knew she would perhaps grow distrustful and resentful of it, but it had to be done. Cupping the back of her head, he held her close and began to speak.

"Víariya, I am sending you home with V-C3..."

She half-heard his words. With her eyes still closed, she replied. "We are home, Papa."

"No, my little one. I mean home to Naboo where you belong, where you'll be safe."

Now her head craned upward and she cracked her eyes halfways open. "Why?"

"With the taxation talks and the people becoming upset, I don't know what they'll do. The fact that Chancellor Valorum has decided to make me his secondary council is a vast responsibility. It means, basically, that I will be the one making most of the decisions for him. We've already seen that the building was broken into. I can only imagine it was because of what I said at tonight's meeting. I am sending you home so you'll be safe, Víariya. Coruscant is no place to raise a family."

She sat up then and shook her head. "But Papa, who will watch over me? Won't you come home with me?"

The Senator sighed. His regret was stained upon his face and his dark eyes filled with tears. He slid off the bed and knelt before her, taking her face into his hands. With his forehead against hers, he continued. "My daughter, you still have much to learn about the world. I cannot go home with you. As much as I would love to watch you run in the fields of Lake Country, I must stay here. My place is in the Senate. As for your upbringing, I have been in league with the royals and have discussed this with them. They will happily take you in as a new handmaiden for the Queen."

Panic ensued and tears fell fresh from her eyes then. It was one of her worst fears coming true. The separation from her father was what they wanted, what they desired; she did not know who plotted it in the beginning, but she threw her arms around him as if for dear life. "I won't go, Papa! I don't want to be a handmaiden for the Queen."

"Víariya, please listen? Hmm? Listen to Papa?"

She sniffled in her childish trance. She shook her head, flexed her shoulders and cried into his chest then as he wrapped his arms around her back. He rubbed her back and soothed her, trying to calm her as the night grew dark. Once she finished crying, she looked up at him and then her eyes descended to look at the train of her nightgown. He kissed her forehead once more and let the pain of his words slip past his lips.

"V-C3 has finished packing your things. A shuttle stands by to take you both home, Víariya. You are to remain in our summer home, but at the same time, you are to report to the Royal Palace. There they will continue your education and train you on how to be a productive member of society. Please know that this isn't a punishment. I love you too much to lose you, so I am only doing this for your safety. I can't risk losing my only child. I prayed very long and hard for you, and now that I have you as my daughter and heir, I will do what I can to keep you safe. I know you do not understand, but I must do this. It is a father's duty to protect the one he loves."

\---

When she reached the levitating platform, her father stood in his senatorial robes and was guarded by two others she did not recognize. V-C3 rolled behind her on his shaken wheels, and as the last of her belongings were packed into the back of the shuttle, she let a few tears fall once more. Her throat seized with physical pain, and she felt as though she could not swallow. Her flesh was cold by the filtered air of the ecumenopolis. A hood sat firmly on her head, and with her long, thick hair flowing out of the hood's confines, she felt as though she were not herself. Her father stood there with tears of his own, and as V-C3 rolled down a small ramp once, his voice chortled. 

"Everything is aboard Mistress, save for us. You may make your goodbyes as I prepare the shuttle for the flight to Naboo."

Her head shook in the coldness of the wind. She felt hurt, she felt alone. She could not understand why he had made such a rash decision, and she discovered that she since she was still a child, she would not know yet until she had birthed a child of her own. Her little feet pattered her over to her father, who dropped to his knees and held his arms out. He embraced her tightly and kissed her cheek. It was she who sobbed then, and her tears soaked through the dark velvets of his robes.

"Will we see each other again, Papa?"

He brushed the strands of black hair out of her face and nodded. "We will, my little one. I promise you that. I only ask that you be brave and strong. I know you are both of those things. You are a capable young girl. If you ever need help, there will always be those there to counsel you and guide you. You know of whom I speak. Do not be afraid. Their ways are not dark, and they will always bring you truth where others will not. I love you, daughter."

A tear fell from her brown eye and she replied softly. "As I love you, Papa."

She released him as he recoiled his arms. Turning her back, she began to make her way onto the shuttle where V-C3 stood in its doorways. The engines heated and turned on, and the carbonite steel creaked as it began to levitate off the ground. Smoke and steam exhaled from the exhausts, and as she walked inside, she sat in the cockpit at the window. A pale hand touched the glass in a solemn manner. The door to the shuttle closed and within a minute, they began to depart through the traffic of the ecumenopolis. Her father's shape grew smaller by the nanosecond. Looking out at the window, then at V-C3, she sat back against the seat and felt the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders. She wondered if it would be the last time she would see him. Still, deep down in her bones, she knew she would see him once more before the end.


	4. A Sharp Whisper

**-32 BBY-**

It was done. Naberrie had become Amidala, and with the magnificently large headpiece upon her head, it was symbolic of the power she now held. The white face stood placid amidst the sight of those in attendance, and the red beauty marks on her cheeks seemed powerful by themselves, as well as the straight, downward swipe of red paint upon her white lips. She sat upon the small chair within the throne room and sat upright. For all those who approached her, they bowed their heads to her with respect. Each one came up and congratulated her, whereas others simply said nothing and offered their tilted heads. Under the hooded veil of flaming orange, the velvet sat upon Víariya's shoulders and became, in its design, a flame in its itself. Once the ceremony had been concluded, she clasped her red-clad arms together. She felt cold and did not understand why, for it was now summer in the palace and on Naboo. She watched in silence then as the congregation of senators and representatives came and went. From different species to the seemingly human faces, they had all come to pay homage to the new queen. 

Víariya stepped aside then and walked towards a pillar, resting up against it as her head hurt. The intense pressure seemed excruciating, and it traveled down the back of her neck and pounded at her temples. Her whole body ached as she was sure it was a sign of warning. She pulled the hood down to rest on her shoulders, and as she began to slip out of sight, a familiar voice entered her ears as it grew clearly in the throne room. 

"Congratulations, Queen Amidala. I know that with your reign, you will bring further peace and prosperity to Naboo and its people."

It was a mere string of words, but ones quipped with a soft husk to the tone. It was a voice she had heard before. It was one that had resonated and clung to her like the silks she wore beneath her cloaks. She turned and faced towards the small seat where Amidala sat, and she saw before the new queen a man with the same reddish-white hair. The waves were unmistakable, as was the Romanesque profile she had seen three years prior. As Queen Amidala and the senator engaged in conversation, she placed her hood back up over her head and returned to the young monarch's side.

The other handmaidens stood behind the seat and on either side of the Queen. It was a defensive pose, one alerting to the crowd that she was protected. The Senator before them gradually nodded his head as they spoke, and Víariya listened intently, though she was staring blankly at the tiled floor.

"I trust everything is going well on Coruscant, Senator?" Amidala inquired.

For the moment, he paused. A brow pursed over his blue eye, and as he looked down, he grew closer to the Queen. The handmaidens stepped close only once and it was enough to signal to him not to step further. 

"Forgive me, Your Highness," he replied. "But as of late, the leadership on Coruscant has gone unchecked. Chancellor Valorum has been facing the bureaucracy of the planet, and with each passing day, it seems he cannot make clear decisions anymore. His mind is cluttered with the pressures of those who do not agree with him, and every time I offer advice to him, he stares like a blundering novice. I told Chancellor Kalpana long before Valorum came into office that he should have considered the great responsibilities. Now the fate of Coruscant and the Senate is in his hands."

The Queen gave pause. Her eyes shifted about the Senator's figure, and as she peered about the throne room, the rest of the senators, their representatives, and the other common folk began to leave. They deduced that the queen was about to go into talks of business, and thus, did not want to disturb her or her council. The handmaidens, including Víariya, stepped back and folded their hands in front. Beneath their cloaks, their weapons were armed and prepared at any given moment to defend their queen. The shapes of the fabric concealed it well, and the tension of the room grew faintly, she listened to what they had to say further.

"Senator Palpatine, I am sure you can make sense of this situation. When I go to Coruscant, you shall be my trusted advisor. When I enter the Grand Convocation Chamber, I want you by my side. I will bring with me three of my most trusted handmaidens for my security. Once we make the Chancellor see that he must face this bureaucracy, I am only hoping he will come to his senses and be the sensible leader Coruscant needs. We will leave the next night. For now, I welcome you back home as my honored guest."

\---

Once the two of them finished speaking, they all gathered to escort the Queen back to her chambers. Down the tiled halls, they walked, packing close behind her and to the sides as traveled. The women still wore their hoods up over their heads, but even though it was meant to shade their identity, to hide them, she was still discovered amidst the commotion of those in attendance. A hand came up and detained her, and as the other maidens looked behind to see who had stopped her, they continued, as Amidala had no desire to stop walking. She felt uneasy, but when Palpatine came up and walked in front of her, she kept her head lowered.

"How may I help you, Senator?" she asked.

A distinguished laugh came from his gritted smirk. His lower lip was careful to hide his lower teeth, and as the dent in his chin grew deep with the expression, he retracted his hand. She grew rather distrustful and shy, wondering what he would say. Her flesh grew tremulous, and as she stepped closer to her, he carefully removed her hood from the crown of her head. Feeling exposed, she looked directly at him. Their eyes met and she felt the unyielding power of his gaze.

Palpatine rose a brow. "Did you not think I wouldn't recognize the daughter of Emyn Anrínu? I wondered what had become of you. He said he had you returned home here to Naboo, but I did not think he had pulled all the strings to make you a handmaiden in the Royal Palace, yet here you are. I cannot believe how much you've changed in the past three years. It's miraculous."

She licked her lips quickly and responded with a gradual tone of a quiver to her voice. "I thank you, Senator, but if you wish, I can escort you to the Honorary Chambers. I must return to the Queen."

He tilted his head and kept a brow arched over his eye. He clasped at her lower jaw then with his thumb and index finger. "I can see you are troubled, my dear. Is something wrong?"

Víariya exhaled. She slowly unfolded her hands, as she had clung them together earlier before. She had often done so when nervous and now that she was staring at this other Naboo senator in the eye, she felt unsure. She felt threatened and alarmed. Still, he bore her no malice. He did not show signs of deceit, but rather, signs of intrigue. He released her jaw and returned his own hands to his person.

"Not at all, Senator," she lied. "Come. I will show you to the chambers."

She turned around and lifted her hood back up over her head. The Senator followed behind her and she was sure to keep a different pace, one that was not too fast or too slow; he kept a spare distance behind her, and all the while they walked down the halls, she felt his eyes on her at every inch of the way.

\---

Once they arrived at the magnificent array of suites, she opened the doors and escorted him inside. The colors ranged from blues to golds, and with the lush Naboo design, it was apparent that it was an enlightened chamber. The furniture was exquisite and not too expensive. A dining table sat in the open and to the right, a spare bedroom lay unoccupied. Curtains remained drawn back, but it was undeniably clean. He entered inside and she was about to shut the doors when he spoke again.

"Víariya, I can't imagine how difficult this transition must have been for you. To be separated from family, especially the only sole parent you have left— _it must be so lonely_."

She could not tell whether he was being genuine, or if he was making a point to expose her sadness. It was clear that her eyes were full of sorrow. She exhaled once more and turned her head away. A part of her felt insulted by his choice of words, their order, but still, she was curious.

"You cannot comprehend it, Senator. I do not wish to seem rude, but you should not inquire about my situation. I am Queen Amidala's handmaiden, nothing more. Besides, I do not think my father remembers me anymore. If he had, he would at least come to see me in his spare time. One does not permanently live in the Grand Convocation Chamber."

Palpatine paused. He had not expected such a reaction from her, and yet, he was stunned. Her voice grew more determined even in all its distress. He saw how she kept her eyes away from his, and as she turned to leave, he stopped her.

"If I offended you, my lady, I apologize."

_I do not mean to give grave offense to you, Senator, but you do not know me. You do not know what trials I have endured away from Coruscant, and you do not know what I sacrificed. I sacrificed being with my father, sacrificed my freedom. I did not want to become a handmaiden, but my life had been set in motion, hadn't it? It's hard enough to comprehend how rash actions can be decided for someone when they are capable of making their own decisions._

She did not respond to him, at least not directly. "No offense is taken, Senator. Good day."

"Víariya, would you perhaps care to join me later tonight? Not as a bed warmer mind you, but as my civil guest. I have news to tell you about your father. I saw him only hours before coming here. He did tell me to deliver you a message. Whether or not you wish to hear it is entirely your choice."

Her heart rose in her chest. The moment he mentioned her father, the more she grew disheartened. She had missed her father, it was undeniably true. The memories she had of him were all she had and nothing more. As she closed the doors while leaving, she responded solemnly. "I trust you mean your word, Senator Palpatine. After I have finished servicing the Queen for the night, I might take you up on your offer. Good day."


	5. Perils Under a Naboo Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for not posting a chapter until now! Writer's block and juggling depression are not the easiest things in the world. There's mention of alcohol in here, and whether or not he has 'laced' it is entirely up to your imagination. More to come!

The hours had grown darker without hesitation. The moons above her sat beautifully in the placid skies, and she could tell them all apart, just by the shapes and the colors. Ohma D'un was the first one she saw. The moon Rori was accompanied by Tasia, which she remembered best of all. The elements of earth, swamp, water, and ice all played a part in their atmospheric presence. In her youth, she believed the moons to be beautiful, romantic even. She had often dreamed in her naivety that she'd find someone to kiss under their orbital faces. But such dreams were meant for little girls. 

Nevertheless, she had remembered learning of the moons by her father's aid. He had schooled her in her younger years and those were the memories she cherished most. In her heart, she desired to be with him again. But he had sent her back home, home to Naboo where she was now a handmaiden to Amidala. It broke her heart and yet, she did not give doubt that he had done it for her safety. 

As the moons shifted behind a veil of clouds, she cleansed herself. The wet cloths swept over her body as she ran them across her flesh. The waters dripped down in small rivers and her flesh became colder the moment the winds blew in. She finished drying, dressing, and once finished she adorned her hair with small flower buds of Naboo flora. She was innocent while her heart also feigned loyalty to the Royal Houses. It was not her fate as she predicted, but something in her felt undeniably bound to them. A shadow swept across the floors and made her alert.

She bundled her gown to rest promptly off her shoulders, and as the breeze of the night brushed against her, she exhaled deeply. She was afraid of what was to come. She had only seen that man every so often at the Senate meetings, and now that he had requested for her to come to him, what more could be said? What were his intentions? To have her subdued and offered as some kind of bounty? She did not know distinctively. 

Quietly, she opened a drawer from her stand. A silver knife lingered in her palm. Its sharpness gleamed in the moonlight that leaked through the windows of her room. In a quick manner, she sheathed it between her breasts for secure, fast access. The Senator waited for her, this she knew. The insides of her throat grew hoarse and dry. She was terrified but at the same time, for whatever reason, she was hopeful. Her fingers pulled the hood up over her bundles of hair, and as she escaped her rooms, she began to trek herself down the isolated corridors alone.

For now, she was to dine with the Senator. It sounded every alarm in her body and she was ever cautious. He did not seem a monster yet, and even if he were, he had not revealed himself yet. Her father had warned her those three years earlier not to be deceived by appearances. But if the Senator had not shown his true evils, how could she think him to be foul? Her mind and heart were laced with confusion, and she prayed with all she was that she would not be a fool.

\---

Víariya heard the voice whisper into her ear as if it were there physically against her lobe. A pair of invisible lips brushed her skin and thus, gooseflesh appeared and made her quiver. She had finally approached the Senator's chambers with her mind somewhat blind. She hated that voice. She hated the thought of it with her, inside her. She suddenly felt the urge to turn, but it stopped her. 

_Such fires you have, my girl. It roars and maims you like the flames of Mustafar against your very heart. It burns inside you and fills your veins with the acute sense of hatred. I can feel it growing. Pity you won't be able to reclaim the calm you so hoped for..._

It had been nearly a moon's full cycle since she last heard it, and now that she was outside the door, doubt and the thought of retaliation lingered in her. The candles among the walls offered a gentle flame. Her knuckles were about to brush against the door to knock, but they opened before she could muster three raps. Palpatine stood in front of her in dark blue robes, hemmed with black and embroidered with fine silks. His faded red brows did not move, but his closed mouth turned upright to the left side. He did not seem a threat to her and so, he grasped her hand and pulled her inside gently. The train of her ombré gown almost caught itself in the door but did not.

He ushered her inside and felt his grip on her arm grow somewhat tightly. An arm wrapped itself around her back. The flatness of his palm warmed her open back, and she felt his skin against hers.

"Such a quiet thing, you are," he smiled. "Have you begun to not trust me?"

"Senator, I—"

He did not let her finish as he brought her into the dining area. Curtains blew in the breeze and revealed a rather odd scene. There, the table had been set with candles, a rather expansive set of cutlery, silver chalices and bountiful meats and vegetation. Once she was brought towards the table, he used, surprisingly, a set of manners that caught her off-guard. He pushed her chair in and began to pour some red wine. _Gods_ , she thought. _This was meant to be a seductive display of power._

Once he sat her at the table, he too assumed a chair and began to pour a glass of red wine for her. The very arteries of her body clenched together. If she showed any fear, he would sense it, smell it. The very thought of her being harmed or touched made her fret. Palpatine then looked at her, and she lowered her eyes, looking to the side as to avoid eye contact with him.

"Are you that afraid of me, child?"

Yes. "No, Senator, I am sorry. It is just— when you mentioned word from my father, I did not know how to take to it, I suppose. Tell me, is he well?"

Palpatine's hand grasped the stalk of his wine chalice. Poising the silver to his lips, he drank once and rested his arm with the silver in hand. He rested his back against the chair and looked at her. She could not tell whether or not his eyes were speaking the truth but nonetheless, she listened as he spoke.

"Your father is relatively well," he said. "He misses you very much. And of course, he wanted me to relay a message for you. He wishes for you to join him back on Coruscant. There is something of a private family matter he wishes to speak to you about, and he asked me that if I ever went back to Naboo in my spare time if I would willingly bring you back with me."

In return, she rose her own chalice to her lips and drank. The red, sweet liquid rushed down her throat and she felt intoxicated by its delectable aromas of chocolate. The slight burn of the alcohol sat on the tip of her tongue. _If you have poisoned it, please let it be a quick death. I don't want to become violently ill to the point where I have foam and bile spilling from my mouth._

But the mentioning of her father wanting her home gave her some hope. Her brown eyes grew bright, and as she placed the chalice down, she redirected her attention to Palpatine.

"Do you think me a fiend, my lady?" he asked.

The air chilled her then and her skin became as gooseflesh. Her nape was the most chilled, and as she finished drinking the wine, she rested her palms to sit upon her arms. He observed this and acted in a manner that surprised her, astounded her. Rising from his chair, he slowly walked over to her and removed his robes. He placed them around her shoulders and gently moved her hair to rest in front of her breasts. 

"That should warm you."

He returned to his chair and watched her expressions. Suddenly she felt uncertain. "I thank you, Senator."

"Palpatine or Sheev, if you please."

Her eyes blinked once. " _Sheev?_ _That_ is your first name?"

"It was not my choice, I can assure you. Now please, enthrall me with your acumen as we speak. And please do not starve yourself, my lady. I do not think your father would be happy to hear how grieved and stalk-thin his daughter has become. Won't you enjoy this night with me?"

\---

Hours passed. Half-drunk, she felt her limbs grow colder and heavier. She could barely move. Her speech was now slightly slurred and her eyes were closed. Her hand was on her breast and as she cleared her throat, she reopened her eyes and tried to sit up. Slowly, she achieved such stability.

As she stood in his robes, she seemed smaller than usual. Her pale hand held the robes that drowned her appearance, and the winds blew through her hair, carrying the scent of herself through to him. He stood as well and offered her balance. While he had drunk some wine with, he himself was not inebriated. He clutched her closely as he escorted her to the master bedroom. 

"You're exhausted, my lady. I don't quite think you'll be able to make it your own rooms, so I suggest you stay here for the night."

 _What? No, no, I can't stay here with you. I cannot stay in a strange place with a strange man_ , she thought once more. _I can walk back, I can..._

"That was _not_ a request..."

She was rendered motionless then as her limbs grew too heavy with the feeling of intoxication. She slumped down against him and her eyes closed. Palpatine threw her into his arms and carried her inside. While there were a few guards passing through, their footsteps were not detoured to check his rooms. Her head was swimming with aching pain. She felt lifeless and alone. As he placed her inside his room upon his bed, she lay there with every inch of her frightened. She did not know what he would do, and she tried to stay awake. She fought the feeling of sleep, but her body would not let her stay awake. Her eyes closed again and her body went completely numb. She fell asleep in his robes and though she could not see what he was doing, she felt his eyes upon her. But how had he heard her earlier?

_If you touch me, do it with the intention of killing me. Please do not contort me or hurt me. If you have these foul thoughts, let them damn you. I hope that even if you do touch me that you leave evidence of some sort behind. Only then will I plead to the Queen to keep you away from me forever._


	6. Visions in the Water

When she awoke, her ribs ached. Her heart felt slow as it beat in her chest, and as she stirred, her muscles were weak. Her strength had gone from her and she could not understand why. Her head gently pounded with a migraine. The room was slightly darkened, but not to the point of complete darkness. She removed the blankets from her person and saw that her dress was still upon her. She carefully and slowly lifted the skirt and saw nothing but pale, clear skin. There was no blood anywhere. Her thighs were untouched, clean, and pristine, and she was not marked by any scratches. She felt no pain burning between her legs, and for that, she was grateful. As a sign of relief, she fell back against the pillows and clutched her breast.

Sweat glistened along her throat. She trembled as she turned onto her side. The weight of her breast fell over the other, and as she curled into a fetal position, she felt the eyes upon her again. Her nape was touched then by something unseen. Her eyes closed as she felt her blood boil beneath her skin. The presence was real. It felt as though the fingertips were there, gnarled and pale. She tried to open her eyes, but pressure closed them. She developed gooseflesh and her heart was palpitating inside her chest, up into her throat and into her mind. It felt as if her heart was going to implode. 

"Let go of me," she cried, choking. "Please."

No answer came. The incessant weight continued and as she looked to the side, her throat becoming parched and tighter, she clawed at the mattress as she could not move her hands to her neck. The bite on her neck began to sting to the point where her tears fell vividly. "Let me go, please!"

She tried to emit her voice for help, but none heard her. As she grew unconscious, blackness overthrew her vision. Darkness claimed her eyes as her head hit the pillow. Her breathing slowed and her heartbeat grew soft. The sting of the bite began to go away, but the pain was still sharp in her whole body. Every piece of her body, all the way from her knuckles to her feet, were numbed as she lay there unconscious. She felt her head tilt to the side with the progressing aches. Her mind swam with visions now. In one, she saw herself standing beside an examination table with her father there. She saw ripples of blood and knew then that he was in immediate danger. She saw a tube sticking out of his throat and saw how dangerously close to death he was. Víariya's lips quivered. 

_Daughter, please help me. I am sorry for what I have done_ , her father's voice echoed. _I did not mean for this to happen. Please forgive me. I love you and I have never lied about that. I should never have..._

The other persona in her vision lashed out and reached behind her. A hand was at her neck and a pair of familiar, invading lips were at her ear. It whispered dark things to her, dark thoughts, and how she wished for it all to go away. Víariya's heartbeat began to quicken once more. The other half of her vision consisted of her being enveloped in darkness. She felt heavier at the abdomen and swollen. As she looked down at herself in her vision, she saw she was more shapely, large, and round. Her hand reached down to touch her abdomen then. A nudge pressed against her palm. With one quake, she saw blood on her fingers. The pressure released her and she shivered. With one jolt and rise, she woke to find herself screaming. Her tone echoed off of the stone with a derelict sound. As she looked around, she threw the sheets back from her body and began to run through the rooms in her sweat-clad dress. Her feet ached for reasons unknown, and her head pounded. No guards stood at their posts outside the chambers, and she deduced that they must have been in the throne room already. It had already passed the crack of dawn and all was coming to light.

 _The Queen_ , she thought to herself. _I must find Amidala. I must tell her what has happened. I... I only hope she'll believe me._

\---

Once she reorganized herself, she managed to slip the hood over her head. The rest of the handmaidens were in view, and as she approached from behind the throne, she saw Amidala was sitting there, speaking with two strange-looking counselors. She calmed herself enough to approach with grace and poise, as she was trained to do so. The others in attendance did not acknowledge her, save for Dormé. Her eyes saw how frail-looking her companion was. As Amidala continued to speak with the visitors, she looked at Víariya with a side glance. Sweat remained on her throat and it was clear she was still distraught. The women kept looking ahead and did not break their character. Whatever pain there was, Víariya dealt with it the best she could. For now, it was time for business, and if she was seen speaking behind the Queen's back, how shameful it would appear. Nonetheless, Amidala listened as tradesmen spoke to her eagerly and nervously.

"We appreciate doing business with you, Your Majesty," one said. "It was a great opportunity, and one we did not wish to miss. I am grateful that there are blockades being managed and created. Dealing with the Trade Federation's nuisances have been a nightmare. You cannot even begin to understand how wearisome the Viceroy is."

"I can assure you that I will deal with them as well as I can. I have one of my senators working to reason with the Viceroy as we speak. I thank you, gentlemen, for your services," Amidala said. "You are dismissed."

The two men bowed before the Queen and turned to leave. Their footsteps echoed off the floor as they exited the room. Sabé approached the throne and passed a letter to the Queen herself. She unraveled it and began to read. As Dormé approached Víariya, the sound of Padmé's voice grew different as she conversed with her closest protector. It had reverberated back to its usual gentle sound, and the drone of her business persona now faded away. The guards shut the door and stood in front of it as a barricade. Dormé suddenly grasped Víariya's left hand and dragged her beside a window to speak. While the others were occupied with the Queen, the two women spoke to each other with their tones hushed.

"What happened? Where have you been, Víariya? The Queen was concerned," she said. 

"Please, Dormé," she wheezed. "I must have a private audience with the Queen. Something transpired last night and I need to speak with her. It... it concerns the Senator."

One of Dormé's eyebrows rose above her hazel eye. She almost tensed, as she knew what man she mentioned. "With Palpatine, you mean?"

"Yes."

Dormé now shifted utterly close to her. She lowered her voice and gently squeezed her friend's arm. The silence was crippling and as she felt the distress reverberate off of her, she asked, "Did he hurt you?"

Tears welled in Víariya's eyes. She trembled and grew paler by the motion of the sunlight. She developed gooseflesh and shook her head, unsure. Her breath hitched in her lungs and would not move. She felt as if she were drowning and as if she were dying. No light felt warm enough to give her peace.

_I don't know if he hurt me. No one was there after I awoke. I saw no blood, no scratches, no wounds. There was no trace evidence, but all I remember was waking, waking with my womb somersaulting. There was nothing there. I don't know what he did, even if had done something. All I want is to leave this place. I want to return to Coruscant. I can't stay here any longer._

\---

Hours later, Padmé entered the room of her handmaidens. She was dressed in a simple nightgown of soft chiffon, and the rest of the women were all beautified in the same fashion. After all, they shared the same chambers close to her own quarters, and as she entered through the secret door adjacent to the main entrance, they all stood in a line and bowed. Padmé exhaled and slightly shook her head.

"My friends," she said gently, smiling. "You need not bow to me when we are alone like this. Now please, it's alright. Now, I received word that one of you wished to speak with me. Who is it?"

Everyone from Sabé to Dormé looked to their right in an obvious gaze. In the line, Víariya kept her head lowered and her voice brief. "I did, Your Majesty. It's... very important and I hope to have a private word with you. They don't have to leave the rooms per se, but I wish for us to be separated if only for a short while. What I have to say may seem concerning."

Padmé acknowledged her request and nodded. The rest of the young women stood and shifted to the other side of the chamber. Once there, they placed a defensive shield across the way, splitting the room into two invisible halves. The sound was blocked, but they could still see the Queen. It had been one of the many defensive techniques employed by those who worked security for the Queen and Naboo. Once they were collective, they let them speak in peace. 

"What's troubling you, Víariya? I didn't see you in the throne room until later. Did something happen?"

"I am so sorry, my Queen," she said. "I was coaxed away."

The young monarch grew confused. "Coaxed? How?"

She stammered. She tried to find an easier way to speak to her, to say the words in her mind, but she was afraid. In her eyes, she felt as though the presence were there, listening to her every word, and watching her every move. Padmé took Víariya's hands into hers and furrowed her brows. "What is wrong? You can tell me. I won't be angry."

Defeated, she replied to her. "Palpatine. He asked me to join him last night, and I told him I would after I had finished servicing you. He said he had word from my father on Coruscant. I went to him, engaged in conversation, but when he offered me something to drink, I... I think he laced it with a nauseating aphrodisiac. I fell unconscious and when I awoke, he wasn't there."

"Víariya, Senator Palpatine came to me and asked if he could sleep elsewhere," said Padmé. "He did not want to disturb you or move you since he thought you had taken ill."

 _Lies. I can't imagine you'd believe that. He's distrustful and corrosive. You'd allow him to continue to be a senator?_ As she was lost in abstract thought, Padmé held her handmaiden in her arms gently in a warming embrace. She was concerned for her, as she was for all her people. Víariya had been a good handmaiden but more so, a loyal friend. She could not bear to see her in such pain and fear anymore, and thus, the young Queen knew what had to be done. Releasing her from her hold, she sat up and grasped Víariya's hands. Her eyes were calm and soft, as was her voice.

"I, Padmé Amidala, hereby honorably discharge you from my service and from the Royal Palace."

Víariya's heart sank but then suddenly, lit with miraculous hope. "What?"

"I am sending you back to Coruscant. You've been away from your father far too long, and I want you to be safe, happy. I release you from the services. You're going home, Víariya."


	7. Reunions and Bureaucracy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I am really horrible at updating and keeping new content coming! However, I am in the process of moving and working, so please forgive my absence. Just to let you know, I have reworked some scenes I wrote in the previous story back into this chapter. I will continue to do it for the rest of my story. Again, thank you for the kudos!

The platform was as empty as it had ever been. As the fluorescent lights powered and shined, she saw only a small group of people at the edge of the platform. She recognized the Coruscant guard, as their symbols and uniforms were still the same. Their faces were stern, and their body language suggested they were not to be trifled with. The two strong, tall men stood along either side of two important figures. One wore blue robes and had white hair while the other, he had a long white braid sitting over his shoulder and wore black robes befitting that of a senator. Her eyes widened as the shuttle touched down. Once the craft thudded, the vibrations made her shudder. She had not been on Coruscant for the past three years, but yet even though the buildings and faces remained the same, the aura of the ecumenopolis felt different. It felt colder, misled, and lost beyond all feeling. It was a city of politicians after all, and most knew how cold they were. Víariya redirected her attention to the door as she stood. She left the shuttle with her hood still over her head, and as she looked beneath the brim, she saw one of the elderly men walking towards her. Her heart stalled once then regained its beat. 

"Víariya?"

The voice rang clear as day, and as she pulled her hood down, her face became imbued with a smile, with tears of forlorn love. He ran to her and she dropped her robes to free herself of their weight. With only the light gown on her person, she was free to run to him as well. Arms were outstretched from both people. The tears fell down her cheeks as she finally reached him. Her father's arms caught her and he clutched onto her, crushing her close as if it would be the last time he'd hold her. His lips touched her forehead and he wept into the crown of her scalp. He kissed her temples as he crushed her still. The two clung to each other tightly. Her breath left her in small wisps, but she cared not.

_Papa, please don't send me away again. It almost killed me being away. I belong here with my family, not in some massive palace only to wear hooded gowns and be vowed to absolute secrecy._

As her thoughts raced through her head, he looked down at her with his forehead touching hers. "My girl, you're back. You're finally back," Anrínu cried. "How is this possible?"

Looking at him with her eyes gleaming, she responded, "The Queen released me from her services, Papa. She freed me of my bonds as a handmaiden. And thus, she let me come home to you."

Anrínu's elderly face turned a lighter shade of tan. He grasped the back of her head and comforted her, walking back towards the edge of the platform where their own topless shuttle waited. The sonic hum entered her ears, but then the tune of another mechanical whirring followed as well. She turned to look behind her, and as she saw a shape coming off the escort shuttle, she saw what it was. The old frame of a droid cluttered and clanked along behind them. The wheels were squeaking, but the droid itself seemed to be in good shape. The blue socket eyes grew brighter, even in the midst of the fading sun. She looked back at her father, then to the droid. Her heart burned with anticipation, as well as happiness.

"What? You didn't think I'd let you come home alone, did you?" he laughed. 

She released her father from her arms and turned around. The smile remained, and as the droid drew closer, the familiar build was clear in her vision. "V-C3!" she shouted. She looked at her father, who proceeded to smile too. But slowly, the smile was laced with confusion. She remembered the night when they had touched down at the Palace. V-C3 hadn't entered the palace with her. She remembered him leaving the shuttle, but as she had been whisked away into the private entrance, she recalled that he was no longer with her. V-C3, she thought, had been hidden for three years. Her brows pulled together as she spoke, and her voice, soft and lowly, gave the distinction that she was unsure. 

"Father, I thought he was lost and damaged. How did you find him?"

"It turned out that the Queen's soldiers had come across him after you both landed on Naboo. He was told to leave the shuttle and apparently, he lost your tracks. He went looking for you. They hadn't the slightest idea who he was, and they even said that something had come undone in his wiring. Before you left, I had his colors redone and our house sigil taken off his frame. It was to be for your protection of course, as even on Naboo, I still have enemies who don't take kindly to a man of a different ethnicity having a place in the Senate. If they had found him, they would have sabotaged his circuits and reprogrammed him as a spy against our family. They more or less couldn't find him, and even then I couldn't find him until the Naboo guards alerted me that they had V-C3 in their custody. I told them to keep him away from you in case something happened. I did not want to alert them that there was a droid following one of the Queen's handmaidens."

The way her father spoke gave her a hesitant pause. Her skin shivered, and her dress clung to her like a funerary sheath. The winds on the platform were growing more vivid in their breeze, blowing swiftly, deftly. The thought of him still having enemies frightened her. She remembered the night he had decided to send her to Naboo. The glass from the shattered windows remained as sharp as ever, and the way the crowds had gathered around the building of 500 Republica had always concerned her. She had seen much, hadn't she? She knew for certain that they were not as favored or as loved? As she grasped onto her father then, her eyes half-closed from fear. Another man approached as she clung to her father. She observed his face and saw a pair of cracked blue eyes, a strong jaw, a receding white hairline. She saw him draped in robes of blue symbolic to a chancellor's position. It registered then as to who he was. He lowered his head to her in respect, and she to him vice versa. Once the droid stood beside her, she blinked slowly.

"Chancellor Valorum," she said, her smile remaining. "It has been at least three years since last I saw you. How is your office position treating you?"

Valorum's face went pale. He hadn't expected to see her again, much less speak with her. He had always been unsure around her as if he didn't know how to think, act or breathe. She mesmerized him with her intelligence and he had always felt his defenses were lowered with her near. He silently thought to himself for a moment, but then replied, as not to make the situation awkward.

"As usual, the delegates hound me but I do not let them win," he remarked. "Coruscant has been faring somewhat well. The public remains oblivious to our problems, and for that, I am grateful. But more so, I am grateful now that one of Coruscant's prime senators is reunited with his daughter. He hasn't stopped talking about you since your shuttle departed from Naboo. I have yet another meeting to attend to in the Chamber, and if you wish, Emyn," he said, speaking to her father then, "I allow you to bring her with. Far be it from me to keep a father separated from his daughter. Come."

Her fingers were light against the film of her dress, and with her hand touched her father's. Their palms connected and their fingers entwined, and with the look of happiness etched onto her face, they followed behind the Supreme Chancellor.

\---

"Daughter, aren't you going to accompany me to the Senate meeting? They are to discuss talks of electing a new Supreme Chancellor."

As the suns were setting, the night skies descended on Coruscant, and the city lights began to glow erratically throughout each of its districts. Hovering ships passed through and found the runways in which to land, and as she looked past the thin curtains blowing in the filtered air, she inhaled and found the planet too crowded; everywhere one looked there was machinery, a droid, alien folk of every species. The whole of the industrial district was undeniable. From the New Architecture styles, she could see the Senate Building from her balcony. She dreaded that building and more so, dreaded the fact that her father was forever surrounded by cunning politicians. But her mind swam with questions. Valorum had had a decent reign as it were, but now that she was back, they were planning to elect a new chancellor?

The long black waves of her hair blew around her figure and she sighed. She felt as though she was suffocating, much like with the fumes of those in the Coruscant underworld. The lights around the districts continued to grow brighter, and the sounds of the ships, vehicles, and people rang through her ears. The familiar ring of its toxicity and shallowness returned. She looked back at her father, who now wore his Senate robes. He stood from the neck to foot covered in long maroon-black cloth, and he held a belt around his waist with his house sigil upon it. To the public eye, he was entirely respectable. To others, such as the Senate itself, he was prey, he was a pariah and he failed to realize it. She turned to face him and she walked back inside, the doors closing themselves and locking.

"Even though I do not feel well, Father, I will go with you nonetheless," she offered.

His thick black brows pulled together as he finished buttoning his robes. "Are you ill, my dear? What is wrong?"

Her mind was lingering elsewhere. She knew that the talks of politics were both dangerous and tiresome for most; she hadn't the desire to be submerged in that world, but she already had been. As the city roared, she lowered her head and whispered, "Nothing. I will be fine, Father, but I will dress and accompany you as you wish."

"Víariya, you do not have to come with if you do not want to. If I made you feel as if I have forced you, that is not my intention. I just wish for my daughter to be with me because this city is dangerous most of times when one is alone. There are still those who prey upon the wealthy. If I left you here at home and someone killed you in a home invasion, I would raise hell. That is why I sent you home to Naboo in the first place. Please, daughter— that is the only reason why I always wish you to accompany me to the Senate. I want my girl to be safe."

She could sense the honesty in his voice, and more so, she could see it in his eyes. Since her younger years, she became cautious as to whom she trusted. But this was her adoptive father. When she was given his last name, he had vowed to uphold his parental duties in protecting her, raising her. In return, how could she not abide by at least honoring his wishes when he brought her into his home? Still, she nodded and repeated, "I will dress, Father. Give me a few minutes and we'll leave."

The grey-haired man nodded and smiled at her. He brought his thin lips to her forehead and cradled her into an embrace. Once he released her, she went to her rooms and was accompanied by their droid. It helped her into her lavish gown, but as she was being dressed by the machine, her face was softened then with sadness. Her heart was sinking in her chest, and she could feel the disdain the Senate had, and undoubtedly, she could feel that cataclysmic eruption brewing in the distance.

-

When finished, the droid opened the doors and she exited. Her long black hair was in a straight length, with two braids each lingering on either side of her jawline. On the back of her head, braids sat in a bun and the rest of her hair flowed behind her. Her gown was of furnished deep red, and her golden jewelry shone against the off-shoulder design. Two golden chains made to act as straps held her bodice up, and two golden armlets held up her sleeves. A small golden piece of beading sat across the crown of her forehead, and her red lips were voluptuous in comparison to her pale skin. As she walked towards her father, he held out an arm and as she took it, the two descended into their shuttle. Through the crowded skies of the ecumenopolis, they followed a string of fellow vehicles and shuttles through to the Senate District. As she looked through the windows, she saw many other Senate members coming with their consorts and other party members.

Her head turned away from the windows and she closed her eyes. She despised going to the Senate meetings, and she knew the Counsel itself was a sham. She didn't trust any of them, least of those who held the most power. The only one who seemed completely unbiased was Valorum. But whether or not he was intelligent enough to be trusted, to be confided in was amiss with her. She would not confide in him if need be. As the traffic finally settled, they landed on a platform and began to exit their shuttle. With her father in arm, she accompanied him inside.

The doors opened and the building began to quake with talk. It was not the first time she had accompanied her father, but it was renewed to her in the ways the men stared at her through strange and abnormal eyes. While most were human, others had eyes of inhuman blue, black, and many other different colors. They appeared hungry for her. It was as if the Senate members craved to sink their teeth and claws into new flesh if only to persuade others to join their cause in politics. But she was not about to give herself to their plans. She would rather die than become entangled in such a bloodless world, that she vowed.

"Senator Anrínu," most chortled as they passed through. "Good evening," he replied.

As she walked through, the train of her dress shimmered red in the lighting. It gave way to their rich status, but she cared not for the wealth; it was a symbol that she was a well-endowed girl with no tidings, no true family or prospects. She was perhaps made to become a pariah. As the two of them began to walk towards the Grand Convocation Chamber, they were stopped. A hand touched her father's arm and she looked over her shoulder. Behind them was Valorum. He seemed bereft and solemn; the expressions of his blue eyes seemed icy and adrift. His low tone entered their ears then as he asked, "Emyn, may I speak to you alone, please?"

He looked to his daughter, whose eyes were sullen but confident. She nodded and folded her hands across her abdomen. Quietly, she began to walk closer to the meeting hall. The hum of the microphones, translators, and hovercams entered her ears. The 1,024 pods aligned in the massive circle gave her the idea that all were 'represented equally in the public eye,' but she knew that most of them would advance their own agendas if it would further their campaign. She walked then onto the platform of one repulsorpod and waited for her father. Looking through the doors, she saw him still speaking with Valorum. The two seemed concerned, but she was good at studying faces. Their expressions exchanged a solemn look for one of the fervent surprises. Brows arched and mouths dropped open. As the rest of the Senate members and the representatives entered, the other repulsorpods echoed as they all took formation.

"The meeting will begin in five minutes," an announcement said. "All attendance is mandatory."

 _Father, please hurry, she thought to herself. Do not leave me here alone with these people. I don't know them and I do not wish to know their personalities. I only came for your sake. Please, after this take me home. We do not belong here_.

\---

Once the meeting began, all of the repulsorpods were aligned in the massive circle once more. Thousands of voices entered the arena and echoed off the walls. The Senator stood beside his daughter, whose presence did not go unnoticed. The debates began, and as her father took turns speaking with each member as to whom would be the best candidate, all offered different names, different votes. She felt the aura of the room turning sour once the bickering began. The many hundreds of senators who voiced their opinions hardly changed their minds. _It's like listening to old women bicker_ , she thought. _Their voices are heard, yes, but their words mean very little depending_ _upon who listens_. Across the way, she saw yet another pod. Her eyes widened the moment she saw who was aboard it. It was Queen Amidala, along with Palpatine himself. Her throat tightened and her heartbeat quickened.

Once her father took his pose at the front of the pod, the microphone captured his voice. "I do believe that in all our years, we have hardly found a chancellor who has done as much good as Valorum has. Seeing as he has done much for us, why are we thinking of bringing his terms to an end? Terms come and go, but real, decent power exists only when the right person is elected. Rational thoughts are mandatory. Mindlessness is dangerous! We still need someone who is not afraid of true leadership."

Among the countless minutes of arguing, she began to think to herself what she would do if she truly had a voice in the Senate. Standing more closely to her father, she looked all around at all the different candidates. Her brows furrowed together in mild disappointment, and she saw none who had the take-charge attitude. Her mind was telling her one suggestion, but her heart signaled to warn, giving her the notion to stay out of matters in which she had no experience or inkling of desire. It was Amidala who spoke loudly, and as she listened, Víariya watched as Palpatine leaned in to speak to the Queen. His words could not be heard, but she felt the intent behind them. He was whispering to her in a way that most politicians preferred when they did not want their words heard aloud. It gave her great doubt, and Amidala spoke with her tone pointed. 

"I will not defer. I've come before you to resolve this attack on our sovereignty now. I was not elected to watch my people suffer and die while you discuss this invasion in a committee. If this body is not capable of action, I suggest new leadership is needed. I move for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum's leadership."

An uproar reverberated in the wild anticipation. The thousands in attendance rose to their feet and roared, chanting for a new vote as they all clamored. Across the way, she saw Valorum sit out of disbelief. His blue eyes dropped to the floor. Rising more closely, she approached the front of the podium and did not stammer.

"I give my vote to _keep_ Finis Valorum as the Supreme Chancellor," Víariya stated. "I know in all rationality, he will be the one to keep settling things the right way and that the Galactic Senate will continue to have a decent administration under his leadership. I ask the members to consider aiding him instead of belittling his cause. He is a strong administrator. And instead of wasting the hours away, think upon it. Think of the vote I have given you. Is there no true reason as to why he should not finish his terms as chancellor?"

One of those in attendance asked, "Who are you, creature? Are you a senator yourself?"

Her father took control of the situation and answered. "No, she is not a senator. And while that may be true, she is my daughter, however, and you will treat her with respect. I will not have some fool calling my daughter a 'creature' when in fact she is a human being."

Senator Dod finally spoke to him. "But she is not a Senate member and nor is she a representative! She has no true voice here! And while Chancellor Valorum is in office, we will hear nothing of it. We will take our time to discuss this."

Valorum, who was still sitting in the opposite pod, looked across the way at the young Anrínu woman. His mouth was curved open with a slight smile, and his eyes were full of surprise; his blue irises in the lighting gave reason to believe he was awestruck. She did not take notice of his reaction, but from across the way, she felt it. Her mind was racing through with the events taking place. Her heart was beating fast due to the frustration of the senators, and she wondered if she had said the wrong thing, but her mind was strong and she knew her will. She would not take back her vote, whether she was a member or not. She was still a human being and a person of the community. She still had a voice.

\---

When the meeting was concluded, the Senator and his daughter made their way through the rest of the building. Her gown of scarlet shone against the lights once more, and this time, the sight of her caught the attention of Valorum. His hand touched her upper forearm, right beneath her armlet. She turned and made eye contact with him as they stopped in their stead. Anrínu saw how Valorum looked at his daughter, and thus, he made the remark saying, "I will step outside, Víariya. I will wait."

Her father turned and walked through the crowd to the platforms, though of course, he was still watching her from across the way. The two of them were left alone then and with a clearing of his throat, Valorum began to speak to her lowly, as if only meaning for her to hear his words alone.

"I wanted to thank you for your consideration, Víariya. You did not have to say such a thing, but  
you did and I wanted to tell you I respect and appreciate what you did."

She bowed her head in respect. "Of course, Chancellor. I would not have suggested to keep you in the office if I myself didn't think you were a suitable man for the post."

He nodded in return. The silence between the two of them was now deafening, even though the other Senate members were staring at them in the middle of the walkway. The strange eyes watched but the Senator's daughter stared right back at them all. They lowered their heads and continued to walk away. He cleared his throat again and offered to escort her outside. She obliged and the two walked beside each other.

"The members were appalled if I am honest," he added. "They were shocked that a woman would suggest such a thing, and they felt insulted. But of course, you had a right to speak your mind, as did the Queen."

"They are all afraid, I can sense it. They speak of change and yet, they do nothing. Why is it that whenever a woman speaks, she's considered dangerous or rude if she has a mind of her own?"

Together, the two of them reached the platform where the running shuttle waited. Valorum looked at her and said, "A woman who is brave and full of wit should not be prosecuted for her beliefs. You are a thoughtful young lady. Perhaps we need more women in the Senate. Would you care to join us?"

A brief, heartened chuckle left her. "Perhaps another time, Chancellor. I don't think politics are my forté. Goodnight."


	8. A Devil in the Dark

Once sitting comfortably at her vanity mirror, she shut the door to her room and unsheathed her body from her robes. She looked around and saw it was the same as she had left it. The curtains were still fresh, clean, and her bed was perfectly made. It gave her a sadness, and she felt as though her father hadn't touched it nor entered it for fear of breaking the aura. A new droid hummed towards her and held out a fine midnight-blue, velvet nightdress with long sleeves; the machine helped to secure the strings behind her figure, and as she unwrapped the braids of her bun, the mechanical fingers began to weave them together in a braid once more. Víariya held her tablet in hand and began to search through its electronic feed. It held her daily agenda, and more so, her important schedule of events she would have to attend. The droid finished braiding her hair and she stood then, leaving her rooms. She walked out onto the balcony of their skyscraper apartment, where her father was standing with a solemn look on his face.

Sighing deeply, she held her head upright and stood beside him. It was a look she had seen many times before. Mostly, he had that look of silent uncertainty whenever he was lost in deep thought. As she approached him, she touched his upper arm lovingly. Her brown eyes blinked slowly in the iridescent lighting of the ecumenopolis. Gingerly, her father acknowledged her and calmly, began to speak to her with a distinctive tone to his voice.

"I see you are dressed for the evening," he said. "Are you still ill, my daughter?"

She felt the nausea flow through her. She did not want to admit it aloud but she could not hide it. It was not a simple illness that made her feel this way. Thousands and hundreds of sensations flooded through her core and reverberated throughout her body. Fear and loneliness— two of the most awful emotions ever felt ran through her like water. She fell quiet for a moment, then replied. "I still feel ill somewhat, Father, but I will be alright."

Her father took notice of her appearance. Those frail cheekbones were more pronounced and she seemed lithe. In her youth, she had been known to not imbibe in food or drink. She often did it when she was troubled. He stepped closer to her and turned to face her completely. Clearing his throat, her father continued.

"I saw Valorum speaking with you at the end of the meeting. The Chancellor seems to have found favor with you, Víariya. Have you given any thought as to what that means?"

Her full lips did not hush the reply. "I have noticed him, Father, but he is your colleague. I will respect that relationship of professionalism and I won't go into that territory. Besides, I don't think he has eyes for me in that regard."

The elder Anrínu laughed. The change in the conversation's aura filled him. He held his daughter's hand in his, patting it playfully as he chuckled. "Víariya, surely you can see when a man loves a woman, can you not?"

She withdrew her hand and looked down at the rim of the balcony, her mind racing. She hadn't the heart to acknowledge that fact, and nor did she think she was ready to accept it. She was still young, still full of life and her mind was continuing with the thought of preparing itself for life's events. The string of vehicles hovered through the airs of Coruscant and she listened solely to their humming. Her shoulders sank downward and her heart began to drift. Her brows pulled together and she shivered. The vehicles swarmed through the skies and distracted her however they could.

"Are you alright, sweet one?"

She had been foolish in not recognizing Valorum's intention. She knew he would not use her, as she would not stand with that act of violence. She hadn't expected him to be so forward and yet, so understanding to the fact that she was being ridiculed simply for being a woman. She was but an adopted bastard with no social graces. She was no one with someone's famous last name. In her heart, she was at peace with that. As the droid entered the balcony with them, it offered her a thicker robe. The cold, filtered air of the city had chilled her. It was an unruly feeling, and how she hated it.

"I am tired, Father. I have just come home all the way from Naboo. And besides, Valorum is older than I am, and you would be alright with giving me to him? I don't come from wealth or highborn blood like you do. I have nothing to offer. I am nothing and besides, I do not believe anyone would want my hand in marriage."

"You are not nothing. You are a strong young woman with your twenty-first nameday coming, and you—"

Her blood boiled beneath her skin with self-hate. She shook as she quivered, speaking her mind bluntly. "Look at me, Father. Look very closely. I have meaningless blood. The societies these days are prominent in including only those who have good blood and high standing. I am no longer a royal handmaiden and nor am I a great senator like you. Do you know how many times I heard the others speak of our relationship as father and daughter? They gawked at us because we have different skin tones. It angers me that they continue to think with such small minds. They are all of the different species, and yet, they judge a father and his daughter. I love you because you are my parent, whether I am adopted or not. Still, I fear for you but mostly, I am worried about your safety. People will stop at nothing to slander your name. They'll make remarks however they can to ruin and end your campaigns. I only wish for you to be safe, Father. Please, do not trust any of them..."

The Senator bowed his head in grief. He did not like to hear his daughter sound so defeated, so disassociated with the general way of life. Of course, she was right in those aspects. People had valued such qualifications since the beginning. She had perhaps had seen this behavior up close when she was a handmaiden to Amidala. He could not understand the disdain most had with race, rank, and nor could he understand why most believed they were better than those 'below' them.

He went to hold her hand, but she withdrew. She seemed almost ashamed he had to touch her and lifting the side of her nightdress slightly, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He went to hold her hand, and as he finally caught it, her head hung lowly as if she were ashamed. Her eyes were full of tears but her face was pliant, calm. He felt her pulse slowing with each little beat.

"If I offended you, my daughter, I apologize. I never meant to give you the idea that I would want you to be sold like livestock. Please, Víariya, will you forgive an old man?"

Her head nodded slowly. She was paler now compared to moments earlier, but she felt something dark coming. Her stomach somersaulted in her abdomen, her womb raced with a warning, and it felt as if there was nothing she could do. The gooseflesh of her skin remained and though she wore thick robes, she still felt cold. The tears had dried now and she released her father's hand. She clutched the robes to her breast and began to walk towards the den. Her father simply posed a question before she retired inside.

"Why did you suggest to the Senate to keep Valorum, Víariya?”

She pulled her thick hair to rest over her shoulder, and as she turned to face him, her eyes filled then with a new light. The tears gleamed on her long dark lashes, but not before falling. Her heart, as it rested within the confines of her chest, began to beat more calmly. "Because I believe he can make them change."

\---

As she lay upon her bed, the memory of speaking with Valorum entered her mind. He seemed so eager and decent, and she wondered what he was truly like. But for all her years, she had known him in a different light— she'd known him since she was a girl since she attended her first Senate hearing at five years old. She remembered those glassy eyes and that black-and-ash colored hair. In the beginning, he had watched over her at Senate meetings as if he were an uncle. He protected her by shielding her from those there, by making sure she had had a safe way to reach her father. It had been a strange recollection of memories pulsating through her mind. And now that he had feelings for her, it was rather obvious. It was undeniable that he had loved her, but would not ask for her hand, not unless she was willing. There was common civility to him that was long dead in others. And for that, she appreciated his respect and composure.

Two hours later, she fell asleep at last.

As her head was cushioned by the pillows, her hair lay sprawled out beneath her neck. Her nightdress was now swimming around her in fine velvet waves, and she breathed slowly, though her brows were pulled together. In her mind, she could see someone. It was in flashing glimpses, but she saw them somewhat clearly. It was in the Grand Convocation Chamber once more, except this time, all the platforms and repulsorpods were darkened. Only the podium was alight. In her dream, she now hovered down to meet the man on the podium. Clad from the throat to her feet in an opalescent white dress, she knew that is was a marriage ceremony about to happen. Her face was not hidden by a veil, but her shoulders felt weighed down by the chains that held her dress' bodice upward.

She did not feel like a bride in the dream, but rather a slave, a pet to someone she did not know. As she approached the said podium, she saw shadows flicker against the man's features. He too was older, but it was hard to tell who he truly was. One moment, he appeared as if he had Valorum's features, the next, he had someone else's face and hair entirely. A hand reached out and held hers, whereas it sealed her fate with a ring. However, in the dream, the ring felt to be more so as a brand. She felt a scolding hot ringlet around her finger and she began to whimper aloud, tears forming fresh in her eyes once more. Her breasts heaved as her heartbeat began to increase. The sound of her heart rang through her own ears, and she knew in the dream she was in peril, much to its uncertainty.

"Let me go!"

She had voiced her demand aloud but her eyes were still closed tightly. Arching her back, thrashing, she began to claw at the pillow. Her nails racked across the fine fabric and as the figure pulled her in the dream to meet his mouth for an ominous kiss, her lips felt aflame as well. Her entire mouth felt as if it were being eaten alive. Finally, she screamed loudly and woke to the very sound of it. Her brown eyes flashed open violently and she fell out of her bed, her elbows and hip hitting the floor hard.

"Go away," she screamed. "Please, leave me alone!"

It had given her great alarm, but not as much as the panic it gave her father. Within a minute, he was there at her door. She heard him rustling from his own rooms and made his way to hers. His hand pounded at the door, begging her to let him in. His voice cracked with sheer, terrifying agony.

"Víariya, little one, please let me in!"

"Enter," she cried, collapsed on the floor. The doors slid open and hurriedly, he rushed to her side. He lifted her to her bed immediately, keeping one hand on her back at all times. He steadied her to sit up and he looked her over as if to see if she were injured. Her sweat clung to her forehead as did the small strands of her hair. Her pulse was racing wildly, and upon seeing her tears, her father brought her to his breast and hushed her, soothing her hair however he could.

"What happened?" he asked. "What happened to my girl?"

Her lips and tongue almost did not form the words properly. "I don't know, Father. I... I had this dream where I was at the podium and I, oh, I can't remember most of it now," she cried. "All I remember was this dark face. It was covered with shadows and I couldn't tell if he was a friend or an enemy. My finger still hurts..."

"What man? Which finger?"

"This one," she said, showing him her marriage finger. And when she saw it, she gasped and her eyes filled with more tears. A dark ring of red was embedded in her flesh, much like a burn. It was not to be permanent, but still, it hurt. She looked at it closely underneath the lighting beside her bed, and she began to quiver in fear. Out of pure shock, her head fell back onto the pillow. Her eyes closed immediately and she fell faint. Her father tucked her back into bed and covered her quickly. He made sure she was comfortable, and when he finished propping her head, he swept her tears away. He left her room in silence, but kept the doors opened only slightly. He feared for her in more  
ways than she could imagine. That was the duty of a father, to be concerned for his child at all times.

\---

Outside the rooms, her father began to speak to someone else. Or rather, a medical droid he had sent for. "Please, it's my daughter. She must have had a night terror, and now she has this strange burn on one of her fingers. Her pulse is completely erratic and she won't stop screaming in her sleep. I don't know what to do for her. Please, can you give her something?"

The tall, mahogany-colored droid entered her room with her father's supervision as she slept, and while she was dressed, for the most part, it had to roll her sleeve up to take a blood sample. It cleaned her vein and pierced her with a syringe. She barely stirred, which was strangely unusual, but for the most part, she kept still and remained asleep. Its yellow sensors, representing its eyes, scanned the vial of blood it had just taken from her. Its microscopic lenses pierced through the film of the plasma. Her blood seemed completely normal, but her hormone levels, those especially which produced the adrenaline and cortisol, were rather high for her. The droid left her room with her father, and the two entered the den, speaking softly as not to wake her.

"She's completely healthy," said the medical droid. "Her body is producing too much of the fear hormones. Tell me, has she ever experienced something like this before?"

"No, not at all. What is wrong with her?"

"Your daughter seems to have had a panic attack, combined with a rather lucid, precognitive dream. It seems very real for her, and I suggest just keeping her home at home to rest with her drinking plenty of fluids. I will leave this medicine for her if she needs it," the droid added, handing him a vial. "Pour it into her drink, mix it, and she will have to wait 30 minutes before it gives her time to sleep. As long as she drinks the mixture and goes to rest, the medicine will help her lucid dreaming come to a halt. Of course, it won't stop her from dreaming completely. It will only calm her nerves long enough for her to experience a restful REM sleep."

Anrínu held the vial in his hand, and as he looked at the droid, he asked, "Then what is the reason for that dark branding on her finger? Why is it shaped like a ring?"

The droid was at a loss. "I do not know, Senator. It is only a minor first-degree burn. It should heal in three days most likely. If her condition worsens, request for me and I will return. Goodnight."


	9. Somnolence and Seduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My main character is twenty years old in this fanfiction, therefore making her a legal adult. There is nothing underage here, but merely scenes of non-consensual voyeurism.

As she stood under the sprinkling of water, steam reverberated around her body and entered her pores. The glass of the shower held it in and clouded the sight of her. Her pale body was rendered pink at the base of her thighs, whereas her curl-covered mound grew softly as the water dribbled over her body. Her black hair clung to her back and hid the shape of her shoulder blades. It was the first time in a few days in which she finally felt like herself again. Beforehand, she had felt disgusting; she felt as if she were smothered in filth, unable to be clean again. She felt as if she were marked by an abhorred essence, a sludge, toxicity no one would ever want. She hated that feeling, but now as she felt the water and cream lather her breasts, her cleft, she arched her neck and pronounced her collarbone into the open. Craning her head to the side, she washed her throat as she closed her eyes. The paleness of its color stung as she swept the cloth over her skin. 

She flinched only slightly, then used the reflection of the glass to see why her throat hurt. Opening her eyes to see through the drops off her lashes, she saw what was paining her so. A patch of bluish-red appeared there. It was a slight size, dark and protruding with its presence. The shape of it was arranged as if it was a crescent moon, but then she saw something within the bruise itself— familiar teeth marks of a crooked arrangement showed among her jugular vein. _An unseen lion,_ she thought. _That is what has come back to ensnare me in my sleep. But where can said lion be? What possibility is there that this creature will actually show itself?_ She hardly missed the sight, but she knew then that she had to hide it, to conceal it from her father. She turned off the water and escaped the confines of the glass and its curves. The steam blew away and thus, her nudity was exposed.

There were seven-foot panel mirrors on either side of the grand bath, and it caught her every curve, showing her for the young woman she was. Her body was shapely, her hips wide and her breasts swollen in their large sizes. The cleft of her pubis was adorned with softened curls, and her buttocks each were untouched, round, and pale. She seemed child-like, but yet, she was full-grown and a woman of twenty. As she reached for a towel, it fell and she bent over to retrieve it. The sound of a bemused groan entered the master bath. It entered her ears thick, like a guttural release of... pleasure one would have when experiencing nirvana. It was a low groan, one simplifying the sounds of a decrepit orgasm. he immediately picked the towel up and hid in its softness. It clung around her body like a shield, and she looked all around, frightened.

"Leave me alone," she cried, her tears falling hotly. "I beg you to leave me be..."

As she hid her face in one of her hands, a full-bodied voice entered her ear now. Its tone sounded morose, yet undeniably suave within its rich darkness. " _In due time, child. In due time.._."

\---

When she finished dressing in a dark mahogany gown, she left her rooms with her hair in disarray. Her hair hung in fatigued waves over her shoulders and her feet were hidden, the dress tailored too long for one of her size. She stepped closer to the den, whereas she heard her father speaking with a familiar voice. She slowly moved as if she were weightless. The heaviness of the finely-embroidered silk in its shine surprisingly did not make as much noise as it would upon a stone floor. The voices coming from within the den were civil to each other, but the aura of the conversation seemed worried, desolate. She stepped closer and began to eavesdrop in silence.

"Thank you for seeing me this early, Anrínu. I wanted to come to you first before the rest of the Senate members."

"What is the matter?" her father inquired. "Has something happened within the Trade Federation?" Once she turned the approached the wall, she put her back to it and pulled her wet hair to rest behind her ear. Her eyes stared aimlessly at the crimson-colored flooring. Her toes went numb as did her fingers. Her nipples hardened and her nape went cold, so cold that the rest of the hairs stood up and chilled her. The clearer she heard their words, the more the sensation of panic settled in her heart.

Their visitor continued. "I cannot be certain, Senator, but I believe there is talk of an invasion. One of my administration members came to me. He has infiltrated one of the Federation's small trade ships, and he has discovered that there are talks of oppression. He was aboard that small ship for many weeks, and so he was able to attend to their every meeting. Their leader Gunray has been plotting with someone. He's been going back to that ship in order to find out who it is, but I have warned him to be cautious. I have told him to be aware as to whom he speaks. There are many recording devices about and there's no telling where their feed is received from."

She recognized the voice to be Valorum's. The distinct deep tone resonated in her ear canals, and she grew gooseflesh upon her skin. Her heartbeat began to race within the confines of her chest. Each thump of her organ ran the blood through her body in a wrenching sensation. Her hands clenched into fists and she began to shake once more. She turned the corner then and entered the den. Both men were sitting upon the lounging sofas, and the moment they saw her, they stood up to acknowledge her. Valorum's eyes made contact with hers and his mouth parted in a slight opening. He seemed almost breathless. The eyebrows of the men both pulled together as they saw tears in her eyes.

Her throat tensed with a ball of pain, and she swallowed the hurt into her throat. Her trachea felt smothered as she sighed. "Is it true, Chancellor? There are talks of an invasion? If this is true, you cannot let them through. You cannot let them bleed into Naboo or Coruscant. All security will be compromised, and so will the rest of our lives. Please, they are dangerous. Won't you do something?"

"Víariya, please, let us discuss this in peace," her father said. "We are sorry to have worried you, but please go back to your rooms. Please, daughter, it will be alright. Go on now. You're exhausted and you need to sleep."

She did not listen. She went to hold onto the front robes of Valorum, whose hands touched her arms in return. "Víariya, please listen to your father. I promise I will handle this matter if it is true. Please..."

Exhaustion weighed her bones down and her eyes felt sore. Her head hung low and she collapsed against Valorum's chest. The pain in her neck began to burn. The sharp pressure hurt her and she winced. Her father rushed over to her and wrapped his arms around her bodice, holding her up. Her eyes rolled over white then and her head craned backward. Her breath hitched in her throat and she went limp; her muscles contracted and her lungs finally exhaled. While she was being held up by her father, the voice rang through her head and she heard it clearly.

" _They are only as wise as they believe themselves to be, and yet for all their knowledge, they know nothing. They are nothing. You are clever, my girl. If only you could see how much of a potential ally you can be to me. All in good time_ ," the voice said. " _We shall meet soon enough_."

\---

Once in her bedroom, the two men placed her upon the mattress and her father covered her up. The young woman lay on her side with one hand outstretched over the side of the bed. She was exhausted with dark circles forming underneath her eyes. A dyspeptic appearance undoubtedly, but she was strong. Valorum gave pause to the sight of her. She seemed so lithe. Her jawline was sharpened and her dark hair hid most of her features. _She seems like a corpse_ , Valorum thought. _No heartbeat almost, no strength left. Damn whatever made her feel this way_.

As her father closed her curtains, the room became darker. Shelves floated on a hovering platform near her bedside and held candles, those with wax dripping red and darkly. The droid was there at her bedside too, and Anrínu approached it. His fingertips hit the positronic motherboard, and as he touched the board, he programmed it with defense mechanisms and security protocols. The droid hummed loudly then and its robotic eyes flashed green, a sure sign that it confirmed the Senator's orders. As it hovered there at her side, the Senator looked to his colleague and began to walk towards the exit of his daughter's main room.

"Come, Chancellor," Anrínu prompted. "We shall head for the Senate chambers to discuss these matters there. I won't risk the mentality of my daughter to this kind of talk. The poor girl has had a troubling episode enough as it is."

Acting accordingly, Valorum followed him out of the room. He turned his head only once as the door began to slide shut, the last thing he saw being Víariya sleeping in a trance-like state.


	10. A Change of Power

As she walked in her dream, she felt the presence there with her once more. It was ominous, foreboding, and cold— it was the very thing symbolic of death. She walked through a derelict chamber that held massive black urns. Their polished ebony shone against the red lighting now, and she ventured closer to the entrance of a smaller room. She realized then that she was in the Chancellor's suite as she stepped through. The walls were a mahogany-red with accents of black. The massive window that stood behind the desk and chair was clear, though, in its middle, there seemed to be a crack forming. Its panes were not shatterproof, this she knew. The panoramic view was not as adjacent as she had seen before, but now it was nighttime in her dream. The blackness of it glowed while only stars remained. The outline of the city seemed as if it were deserted. No fluorescent lights beamed, and there was no traf ic scourging through the airs and causeways as usual. It seemed completely abandoned. It seemed as if it were lifeless.

The desk before her was bare atop, with nothing upon it. It seemed like a sacrificial table, only there was nothing there on its surface, save for two resonating lamps that acted for lighting. They were spaced far apart, and as she drew closer, she eyed something dark and viscous upon the silver surface. The waves of her black hair did not block her sight, and instead, she saw the very appearance of blood there. It was not a large pool of red, but rather something small, something smeared into the lanthanide alloy. It was right at the edge of the desk with small ripples of it stained at the very curve. Víariya's eyes did not linger away from what was in front of her. 

Once she stepped closer, she walked around to the inner curve of the desk. The chair was not there, and she grew confused; it was only the desk and the strange urns in either corner of the room. Her fingers grazed the blood that was there. It was seemingly fresh and hot with no distorted coloring. Pain struck her then as she collapsed against the desk. Her knees gave way and buckled. Pain shot through her elbows as well, and the edge of the alloy caught her ribs. The muscles between her legs began to hurt with the sharpest prodding sensation.

It continued with an awful twinge— it burned, it stretched, it bled. It felt as if it were tearing between her legs and she began to shed fresh tears. Her knuckles flashed white as she turned her hands into fists. Through clenched teeth, she wept. Within the next second, she was pulled upward by the hair. Pressure formed around her throat in a hand's choking hold. The pressing of a thumb against her bruise formed as well and the sharpness of a fingernail burrowed into her flesh. The prickling sensations overthrew her as she felt an arm pull hers back behind her, gripping and holding them tight. The voice she had heard before now came calling to her in a manifestation. A pair of thin lips were at her earlobe. The pain continued as she felt something at the cleft of her roundness; a long length pressed against her. The warmth pooled between her legs and she felt a heightened feeling flow through her.

" _One should not venture where they're not wanted_ ," he said. " _It's dangerous, girl. But if you are prepared to undertake this little game with me, you'll be able to go from a simple pawn to an acclaimed queen. An empress, perhaps. As long as you fear me and obey me, I will give you all the powers and all the strength of the Dark Side. What is your decision? What is your choice?_ "

She hadn't the heart to say it, but she could feel the words form upon her lips, her tongue. As the lips of this unseen figure traveled down her neck, it bit her then again on the spot where the teeth had been before. Now, blood welled to the surface as one of the figure's hands cupped her breasts. The nails pinched her nipple and she flinched, perhaps even deprived of a groan of forced pleasure. She found the willpower to speak her decision.

" _I choose death_ ," she said. "I'd rather die than be your pawn or anyone else's property."

The voice lowly taunted her, and the figure's tongue was at her jawline. As it licked under its curve, the lower half of her dress was torn. She was thrown down onto the desk then belly down, and her curves and lower lips were exposed. " _I will decide your fate for you, but not now. For now, I wish to see your softness before I deflower it and make you mine completely_."

  
\---

She woke up alarmed to the sound of her own screaming. The inside of her throat was parched, was in great disarray as her vocal cords became swollen. Tears flowed from the corners of her eyes and she could not stop feeling the phantom hands upon her.

Sweat grazed her forehead and huddled beneath her breasts, whereas the ache of her bruise formed once more. The droid rushed her bedside and swept her sweat away with a clean cloth. It was damp with cool water that ultimately began to soothe that ache. Her brown eyes clenched shut as she turned to her side, facing the droid that now tended to her.

"What is wrong, mistress?" it inquired. "Would you like me to fetch the medical droid?"

"No, I am fine," she rasped. "Where is my father?"

The droid hovered away from the bed, turned to the side and began to emit a recording saved within its main drive. The static of the blue projection entered her irises and resonated against her pupils. The small projection of her father's figure became clearer and less distorted. She sat up and clutched a pillow to her breast as she began to listen to the message.

" _Víariya, I have gone with Chancellor Valorum to the Grand Convocation Chamber. We will remain there for the evening, but we have matters that we wish to discuss with you. There is also talk that the final decision for a new Supreme Chancellor has been made. You'll find that there is a new gown upon a stand for you in the den. Please, daughter, do this for me_ ," he said. " _A shuttle remains at your disposal on the rooftop. Come as soon as you can. I love you, daughter. I shall be waiting for you eagerly_."

He had not heard him record the message when they had put her to bed. She hadn't heard him speak of it until now. As to when he recorded the message, she did not know. She knew though that she must attend, and of course, she would oblige to the Senator's request. Leaving her bed and entering the refresher, she hurried as quickly as she could. The droid assisted her with master speed and precision, thus allowing her hair to be dried, styled and her body to be covered. The droid accompanied her as well and armed the apartment in which they exited. Together, the two raced to the rooftop where the promised shuttle waited. The door opened and closed, and it immediately took them through the skies to the junction where the traffic to the Senate Arena. Everywhere she looked, the skies were congested.

-

"Are you nervous, mistress?" V-C3 asked. "Would you like an anti-anxiety serum?"

She hardly listened to the machine as he spoke to her. For now, her heart was set on different matters. She was frightened, she was angered— for reasons unknown she was emotional with these dreams she kept having. Her heart did not know what to believe, but her mind was trying to rationalize the vision, to try and make sense of it. In her mind, the thoughts raced through her and she felt the tears forming, though they did not fall. As they arrived at the Senate Building, she swept the tears away. Her face was pale again and now her heartbeat slowed.

She exited the shuttle with the droid behind her. Víariya held her head high even as she swallowed the pain in her throat. Her eyes told her to look everywhere, and her heart alarmed her to be aware of her surroundings. Once she and the droid entered the building, they went to the main door of the chamber. As the door opened, a repulsorpod was waiting there at the edge. The high-pitched hum of its power vibrated through her body. The droid stood behind her still and watched. Its eyes began to record everything. Everything from the surroundings, all the way to the quieted words the Senators and the representatives whispered.

She did not notice any of the new faces who stared at her, but she recognized her father standing amidst the podium, same for Valorum. Both men were dressed in their usual Senate robes, but for this occasion, a wave of silence crashed against the walls of the massive chamber. Once the repulsorpod hovered a few feet across from the podium, it stopped. Her father looked all around and began to speak aloud to the members.

"After the debate we have had over the supposed invasion of the Federation, it is high time I revealed more news, though in this venture it is of a joyous nature," Senator Anrínu reveled. "I have decided that my daughter shall marry."

The moment she heard the word 'marry,' Víariya's heart sank in her chest. The veins stiffened, the blood went cold, and she felt tears coming to her eyes once more. It seemed all she did in her despair was weep, but she did not want that future. She did not want to be married. The other senators began to gossip with one another. Their voices did not carry loudly, for the walls echoed. But her reaction was not the only one to go unnoticed. Valorum's eyes went wide and his mouth parted in a small, fracture-like grimace. He looked from the back of Anrínu's head to stare across the way at Víariya, whose face was now agleam with renewed agony.

But now, a Chagrian stood. He outstretched his hand and announced, "After your consideration, fellow Senators and Representatives, we have a new chancellor. Let it be known today that here in this room, we acknowledge Sheev Palpatine as our new Supreme Chancellor!"

\---

Once they entered the halls, Anrínu approached Valorum and began to record the resignation. The men both looked at each other in the eye and besides Víariya, only two others were acknowledged as witnesses— two members of the alien species Neimoidian. After Valorum was demoted of his role as chancellor, he was given darker robes of a sky-blue, and his offices were now redesigned in a different color. Through the open width of the doors, she saw that the desk was renewed a silver color, the same as the one she had seen in her dream. In her fear, she stepped backward and both Neimoidians glared. The saw the blood rushing beneath her pale white skin, and they could sense her anxiety. Their placid red eyes seemed hollow, almost matted. Their gnarled lips were hidden and their fingers pointed at her in an eerie manner. She looked away from them and shied to herself.

Anrínu bowed his head in respect towards Valorum. Upon giving a respectful nod, he added, "Now that you are out of office, Chancellor, I do believe an arrangement of congratulations is in order. As a gesture of goodwill, allow me to throw you a banquet in your honor for all the years you have served. Let us venture to the opera tomorrow night and afterward, I shall host said banquet at my summer home upon Naboo. I trust you know where Lake Country is?"

In his broken pride, Valorum answered. He did not want to go, he did not want to answer. Clenching his teeth together behind his closed lips, he almost stammered in speaking his words. "I do, Senator. It would be an honor to attend."

"Good. It is settled then!"

The Senator walked towards the exit of the offices and turned the corner. He did not seem his usual self, and that worried his daughter. She took notice of how different his steps were, of how he did not bring himself to escort her out and homeward. Víariya's brows pulled together upward and confused.

_I cannot think of what is wrong with him, she asked herself. And what does he mean for me to marry? I had told him once before I would not marry, and I won't. I refuse to take someone's last name as my own. I hardly had one in the first place._

"Víariya?"

She turned then and faced Valorum. His face was crippled with a broken expression, his lips turned upward in a pout. His own brows were pulled together and his blue eyes seemed icy, cracked. It was as if someone had drained him of his happiness. She approached him and shuddered. Her hands met his and he kissed her knuckles.

"The marriage proposal wasn't for you, was it?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "No, it was not, my dear."

Her head shook again and her breasts grew heavy, same for her heart; her womb somersaulted with confusion and it rippled with contractions of pain. "Then who does he mean for me to marry?""I do not know, Víariya. I only wish that I knew for sure."


	11. A Tale Not to Be Told

"How could they have decided on a vote so quickly? It has barely been a night and a half."

She paced back and forth in his offices, her gowns flowing and shifting the same as her rhythmic walk. Her hair was now loose and she seemed frantic. The very sight of her eyes was a congested red, for she had cried enough in one day. Her lips shuddered, her tongue hesitated and yet, she could not understand the meaning of such a sudden decision. It was unheard of. Valorum was sitting behind his new desk now, and his hands were clasped together at his mouth, as if in prayer. It bothered him to see how distraught she was. He could feel her tension without even needing to hear her say a word.

"Something is not right. My father would have acted accordingly to the Senate's laws. He wouldn't have just made the rash action to have me married off, and he wouldn't have taken so little time to make a decision on you to become a chancellor. It's as they all drew a fateful card to make you a pariah. Perhaps he does not think you a strong man suitable for the position anymore, and that is perhaps why he had them decide to make Palpatine chancellor. He might have made you a target for bureaucrats. I pray that is not true at all. Not for your sake, at least. I must speak to him," she rasped.

She went towards the door but Valorum stood. "Víariya, please. Stay with me if only for a little while longer. There is something I wish to tell you."

The sensation of her blood running cold throughout her body chilled her. If he had something to tell her, he would with all honesty, would he not? Lifting the front of her gown, she stepped closer. She walked around the back of the desk and looked at him in the eye, her height significantly shorter than his own. He towered over her and placed a hand on the left side of her face. His thumb brushed her cheekbone softly. She shied away then and he retracted his hand. She wrapped her shawl of chiffon around her arms and looked out of the panoramic window. The sight of the ecumenopolis distracted her however it could. Yellow lights and the shuttles panned through, and the humming of the air being filtered entered her ears as well. It was such a presence, she wondered if it would be considered a living, breathing ecumenopolis. Valorum walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"If you mean to tell me that you love me, I know already," she shuddered, her voice defeated. "I was told that you had sights for me, but as I told my father once already, I am not ready for marriage. If I was to marry someone, I would want it to be for love. Love mutual, love respectful. I have had so many traumatizing dreams of late, that I do not know if I could freely give myself to someone without knowing their true intentions first. And I hurt still..."

Valorum grew worried. "It's not that. Wait, what do you mean? What kind of dreams did you have?"

He went to brush her hair away, to soothe her and make her feel safe, but he unknowingly swept his fingertips against the wrong side of her throat; the patch of dark red and purple showed, same for the teeth marks. Víariya flinched and pulled away. It began to sting and burn as she clasped her palm to lie over the bruise protectively. Valorum tensed. He hadn't meant to cause her pain, but of course, he did not know of the phantom bite upon her. He grew angry then. His brows pulled together and he rushed her, worried and concerned. He gently craned her head to better expose the bruise in the lighting, and his voice groveled as he spoke.

"Who did this to you?"

She winced away, but she could not lie. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

Angered now and frightened, she pulled out of his hold and backed away. She gripped her shawl tighter and hid, mostly hiding her throat from his sight. "I told you, I don't know who it was! He wasn't there, but I know it was a man. He had a very distinctive voice. It was like I heard him before."

Valorum did not hesitate to answer her. "Víariya, this isn't natural. You must tell your father."

"And have him believe me about some phantom menace who came into my chambers? Who aroused me with fright and marked me with his crooked teeth? I hardly think he'll believe me. Rather, he would have me heavily medicated, to say the least. I cannot tell him, Chancellor. I must go home now." 

She went to turn and walk away, but he stopped her.

"Víariya, wait."

"What?"

He brought his hand around her forearm gently, its hold on her soft and yet firm. He pulled her to him and their chests collided. Once they were face to face, her breath was warm on his lips. As he brought his forehead to rest against hers, he pulled her into a strong embrace. The softness of her face was buried into his throat, and she was hidden then by his arms. Valorum's lips were at the crown of her forehead in an instant. His finger entwined in the strands of her dark hair. Strangely, she felt at peace in his arms, like she knew for certain that he would rather die than harm her. It comforted her when she felt lonesome. But even though he meant well, she was afraid of marriage. She did not wish to marry anyone, let alone someone she was afraid of letting down. She was afraid of everything, ever since she was first born. She remembered hardly anything from her younger years. All she remembered was being left at a Naboo orphanage at the tender age of three or four, and she felt a reluctant feeling of abandonment. She had issues with trust and did not know how to open herself to others without being hurt. She withdrew in a frightened manner from the arms of Valorum. He saw how aghast she was with fear, and so, he released her and watched as she made her way towards the door.

The train of her gown rippled out of his sight. She exited his office with her head held high but her heart filled with fear. In all the misery she had experienced in life thus far, she knew more would come. She could feel it within her heart, and she could feel the worry on her nape as she left his chambers.

\---

Once prepared, the two Anrínus left their home. A speeder was on standby service for the Senator, and together the two began to make their way towards the Galaxies Opera House. The traffic coursing through the Uscru District was alarmingly frantic, as the last of the seasonal acts were to go on. The audience was swarming to the arching entrances, where speeders were unloading passengers at a quick rate. Men, women and all alien species flocked to the doors. Thousands of people were in attendance from what one could see. Víariya saw many of the other Senate members in attendance as well. They traveled with their spouses and or consorts. Ladies adorned in rich clothes and expensive gold flocked to their sides. She felt rather uneasy about the evening, as she felt a strange, ominous feeling beckoning her to the opera itself. She felt a hundred eyes staring at her and as she looked around, she felt as if she were being spied upon it. It gave her an unsettling feeling in her womb once more.

As they pulled up to the arched entrance, her father exited the speeder first, then the droid. The two of them brought themselves to help her out down the steps that were provided. She stepped down each and every one carefully, as her dress was once again tailored too long. She saw the other people there staring at her, and she felt her father wrap his arm around hers. Accompanying her inside, the two of them were noticed then by that same face that had tried to seduce her on Naboo. He stood five feet ten, with his hair in waving ripples of red. The strands were accented with white, and his nose was Romanesque, with lips thin and chin dented. He seemed rather handsome as well as alluring. The Chancellor approached the man and bowed his head in respect.

He began to step towards Víariya, whose face was stunned with silence and a mesmerized expression. In a daze, she stared at him. She did not mean to seem rude and in fact, the other senator did not even mention offense.

"Ah, Víariya," he said, his Naboo accent thick and clear. With the roll of her name off the tip of his tongue, he charmed her still. "I have been waiting to see you again. You have turned into such a beauty."

She stepped closer to this man and allowed her eyes to take him in. His robes were a dark oceanic color, which contrasted nicely against the blue of his eyes. He seemed as richly as they were, yet perhaps he was of higher blood. His groomed persona seemed opportune, and yet, she wondered why he was there in such a coincidental appearance. He had always made himself presentable in view of the public, and she knew that when he was nearing the anticipated moment of seduction, he was one to make a 'memorable' visage. Was it because he wished to attend the opera? Or was it because of another reason entirely?

"Víariya, the Chancellor has just paid you a compliment," her father said, nervously laughing. "Aren't you going to thank him?"

Her eyes blinked once and thus, she entered back into reality. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Senator, though now perhaps I should call you Chancellor since you swindled the Senate rather quickly."

Her father was aghast with shock. He grasped his daughter's arm and tugged it hard. His action frightened her. It was the first time he had ever grasped her in such a manner, and it frightened her to the point where she exclaimed in pain only slightly once. The Chancellor took notice of this and shook his head towards her father. "There's no need for that, I can assure you. Your daughter was only being herself."

"She has no right to be rude," Anrínu proclaimed. "Forgive me, Chancellor. I would have thought my daughter had better manners than that."

"Once again, Anrínu, she was only speaking her mind."

The white-haired man directed his attention back to Víariya, whose arm was throbbing from her father's tight grip. As she pulled away from her father, she stepped closer to the man before her. He smiled at her as he took approach. He never revealed his full set of teeth, but he was appropriate in giving her the proper grin. He gripped her hand in his gently, and he lifted it up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. The others around them gasped and whispered. The hundreds of eyes stared at them, and as this man before her offered his arm, she unwittingly took it. She clasped onto the Chancellor and in return, she kept her eyes on him. He put a hand on hers as he led her inside with their figures shifting into the distance.

As Víariya's brown eyes kept an entranced gaze with the stranger, the two of them left her father there at the entrance. Their feet led them up the flight of stairs, down the side and towards a rather large private viewing box. There the door swung open with a slow motion, and as the two of them entered, the train of her gown and his robe left a shimmer against the lighting of the opera house.

\---

The seat beside his was opened. As her shawl continued to be wrapped around her arms and neck carefully, she adjusted herself to sit beside him. The old gentleman, as he seemed, offered her a glass of wine as the overture began. She remembered that appearances were deceiving, as her father had taught her that years ago. She carefully eyed his The red poured into the crystal darkly, and it smelled of fresh fruits harvested from the vineyards of Naboo. She remembered the smell rather well, as it had been a part of her childhood from before her adoption. She'd been three years old when separated and adopted from her birth family, and it was within their vineyards that she remembered the smell. It was strange that the wine selected reminded her of such things, but as her mystery gentleman passed her the glass, she took it without question.

"My lord," she began, clearing her throat softly. "You misled my father. Why didn't you tell him of that night when you doused my drink?"

He used a free hand to bring her closer. She was then shoulder-to-shoulder with him, and his lips were almost at her ear. Looking away from her and towards the orchestra, he spoke with a low tone, as to let them hear the music as it began to play. Both word and note entered her ears, and oddly, seductively, they resonated in her ears as if both were meant to echo together at the same time.

"I can't imagine you'd think me to be that foul, my dear," he quipped, laughing. "Most times I cannot believe you'd think me such a villain."

 _No_ , she thought. _But I still shouldn't trust you._

 _Half_ an hour passed into the opera, and the tone of the lead soprano's voice entered her ears as well. The shrill sound of her clear singing was magnificent; each note pronounced clearly was as undeniable as the sound of rain dropping. The music and voice soothed her entirely. In between the minimal breaks of the music, she had taken a few drinks here and there. The wine ran down the back of her throat warm and with a robust decadence of dark chocolate, white zinfandel. Víariya's head began to tilt to the side very slowly. A rather warm feeling coursed through her veins, the same as her blood; a strange effect took control of her.

Her company took notice of this and brushed his hand against her face. His thumb swept a loose lock of black hair away from her jawline, and she became vexed on the plasma bubble before them. Lights and tones of purple, light blue and lightning flowed into sight. Her nipples became erect as the music reached a deepening crescendo. Her legs became weak, her breasts themselves heavy. Looking over to him, she felt the stalk of the wine glass fall from her hands. It was all happening again.

The smile she had seen almost an hour earlier turned darker. The lines grew deep and shaded, with the cheekbones chiseled and the flesh pale, clammy. He stroked her face once more as the light faded for the interlude, her vision faded. Her eyes closed and everything went black.


	12. In the Arms of Her Lion

At the opera, screams erupted through the hall and she jolted awake. The nerve endings of her cells felt scorched, and as she woke into a rush of men and women alike flocking to the exits, she collapsed to the floor and broke her wrist. She landed on it whilst trying to catch herself, but darkness clouded the opera and the lights were extinguished. Screams of a shrill nature echoed throughout the entire structure. With her eyes wide open, she looked around and saw no one familiar. She immediately looked to the chair where the other senator had been. It was emptied now, with nothing and no one there. In the private viewing box, she was alone. In front of her, the plasma bubble was a vicious red. Its surface was now circulating with electrical currents, and it sparked, it crackled. It seemed a high danger alert for those inside the building itself. She stood up then clutching her injured wrist to her breast.

"Papa! Papa, where are you?"  
  
Her voice carried through the walls, and as she raced to the door, she heard more screaming followed by blaster fire. Her mouth dropped open and she knelt down against the door. Orders were being shouted by men she could not see, and it alarmed her. Her heart began to beat and pulse faster, even with that unknown drug in her system. It coursed through her and she felt slowed down. As the pain in her wrist continued, the bones began to ache. She winced in pain as she tried to keep it from being hit, but it was impossible. She foiled in the darkness for only a moment, then the doors opened. Before her then were shock troopers. Their hands were filled with the blaster rifles she had heard, and as she looked around, grogginess overthrew her once more. One of the main guards came through. He approached her, shined a light over her face and spoke into his wrist-piece.

"Senator, we have located Anrínu's daughter. She's still alive but injured. What are your orders, sir?"

On the frequency, she could hear that voice. "Bring her here to me."

\---

The guard lifted her through the hall and carried her outside. As her eyes cracked open halfway, her vision blurred in and out continuously. People turned into shapes of dark and white, of gold and sequin. Blood was not avast in its amounts, but she saw a few cuts and bruises upon those in attendance. She could hear the panicked crowd continue in their crowing. A Twi'lek escort clutched to her human's arm, and a Zeltron man brought his women closer as well. The hundreds of humans in sight also wept and tended to each other. As the troops followed behind their commander, they parted the crowd by a single point of their blasters. Never had she seen people move aside so quickly. Their voices resonated fear, and their eyes were as equally frightened. Víariya's eyes shut again. The drug in her system was so empowering that she could not stay awake. The commander signaled for a speeder and thus, the top lifted open and they entered inside. Once it shut, the commander piloted it to reach 500 Republica. As she lay unconscious, her mind was disorientated but her ears were still attuned to the sound of their frequency, of their conversation. 

"Sir, I am en route to your location. I will meet you at the platforms and deliver her there. She is unconscious but I believe she will wake in a few hours. Her wrist is broken but we have plans to repair it. Is there anything else you wish for me to do, sir?" 

The wheezing croak entered through his wrist-piece, and its tone was deep, muddled. "Are there any survivors? Any witnesses that saw what happened?"

Hardly a pause came and went. "Yes, sir. Do you wish for me to dispatch them?"

The voice replied with a haughty chuckle. "Of course, we cannot have anyone go against us. Dispose of them as you wish. And Senator Anrínu?" 

The moment she heard mention of her father, her heart raced. She worried about her father's safety, wondered even if he was still alive. Though their latest talk had been abrupt in her leaving with the Chancellor, she still loved him as he was the only parent she had known, the only one she could remember. She prayed in her mind for his sake. _Please let him be alive. Please let him live._

"We have him subdued for now. His location is confidential but I will disclose it to you once we arrive, sir. We are almost there."

While she was relieved he was alive, her heart ached. Her flesh became riddled with light sweat and finally, her veins felt to be themselves again. She did not feel as weighed down as she did before. Her pulse was slowly returning to normal, and the pulse in her jugular throbbed against the pale film of her skin. _You bastards_ , she thought. _In all your cunning and deceit, you don't even have the gall to show your own faces. Even if you believe you've planned something thoroughly enough, there's always that one thing you forgot. If I am to die, then let it be soon. I can't continue having these dreams. I'd rather be dead now, more than anything._

Her head craned back to the right, and she continued to linger in and out of consciousness. The feelings in her body were now combined threefold. From panic to horror, to loneliness and suicide, she thought of it all as the hovercraft took them through the skies. She saw the elevated residential tower out of the corner of her eye, and as the commander piloted it to meet the large platform beneath them, the same thought kept going through her mind— _am I going to die here?_

_\---_

The guards pulled her out of the speeder and into the commander's arms. She still lay half-unconscious from the drink she ingested. Thousands of sensations ran through her and her body almost felt limp, lifeless. They entered through the side window of the apartment, and they passed through the red doors of the domain. The commander pushed through the other guards and placed her upon the sullen red sofa before them. Her black hair cushioned her aching head, and she was covered then with a soft red velvet blanket. Víariya's eyes opened slowly then. The light in her brown irises shone with a fight. Her vision began to return to her then as well. Her wrist still ached from the broken bones inside it, and as the commander stretched her arm out, a nearby medical droid came around. Its bronze fingers worked a splint onto her wrist, and it tied bandages to it momentarily.

Inside its 'chest,' it began to chisel and work an orthopedic cast. The fiberglass became embedded into the long molding of plaster, and once prepared, it was shaped long and wide enough to be accustomed to the fit of her arm and wrist. She winced in pain as the machine placed the cast upon her. Tears formed in her eyes once more and she turned to look away. The pressure seemed immense but of course, it faded once the droid released her. The commander stood then as a man entered the room. Looking past the white of the commander's armor, she saw flowing black robes coming towards her in a stride. 

"Víariya? My dear girl, are you alright?"

It was not the voice of her father, but instead, the voice of the very man she had been with at the opera hours previously. She did not know why he had abandoned her, and her voice formed enough strength to muster that question. Through panicked brown eyes, she looked at him. She reached for his chest with her good hand, and flatly, she placed her palm against his pectoral. He looked down and then back at her.

"Why did you leave?" she asked. _And if you are to lie, let it be a good one. If you speak falsely, I'll know._

The Chancellor knelt before her and touched her face with his hand. He brushed the sweat-clad strands of hair out of her cheek, and he propped her head with a velvet pillow. He looked over his shoulder and said, "Leave us."

The commander and the other two guards obeyed. They left without question, without response. The two of them were left alone and finally, he was made to explain.

"I saw you fall unconscious. I did not have a droid nearby to fetch the proper authorities, and so I left during the interlude of the opera. In all honesty, I could not tell whether or not the drink had been too strong for you, or if you had a reaction to the alcohol. If I worried you, my dear, then I am sorry." 

_You're lying. I saw you touch my face with your hand. You brushed against me as if I were a plaything to you; I felt your fingertips and the hotness of your breath against my throat. Even when you touched me like that, the bite on my throat began to pain. I don't believe you for a second. You may think of yourself as a master manipulator, but you cannot fool me. Please, if you have my father, give him back safely and you'll never see us again._

Víariya retracted her hand. She lay there in pain and while she wished for something to coax it away, she dare not ingest or take any kind of medication for relief; her mind swam with the unknown and she was still afraid.

Now as he stood upright, he tucked the red velvet blanket around her carefully. His eyes never once left her, and now all she could muster was a gentle stare through her own half-opened eyes. His thin lips curved into a half-smile.

"Whatever you address me as, know I'll always answer. While I wish we had reunited under different circumstances, I trust the fates will be more kindly to you. If you need me, I will be in my office. Goodnight, my dear..."


	13. Close to Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Thoughts and attempt of suicide at the beginning of this chapter. This was partially inspired by Evanescence's music video of "Bring Me to Life," and of the infamous, sad photo of Evelyn McHale's suicide. I dunno why, but I really wanted to reflect on how my main character fights her mind. So, y'all get this in the beginning. Also, our favorite douche comes in to save her. I want to convey that he wants her alive for his own obvious reasons, but also to show that familiar 'mask' we saw in "The Phantom Menace."

Once she woke again, the pain in her wrist had subsided somewhat. The pressure on the broken bones was not as deep as it had been before, and for that she was thankful. She removed herself from the sofa after pushing away the blanket. It was dark inside Palpatine's apartment now with little to no lighting. Only the windows were clear and thus, the dim light below the tower illuminated its structure. There were no curtains, only open space. It was red inside and the hues assaulted her senses. It was not in an overpowering manner, but in the sense that the rooms reminded her of being in a single drop of blood. She stood upright then and walked towards one of the main windows. Her pale feet, now deprived of her slippers, trekked her over to the large panes of glass and she looked below. It was a massive height from his apartment, and to think of the heights obtained in a fall, it intrigued her and gave her a saddened idea. 

She was always in disarray, in despair nowadays. She felt the panes open and the winds blew through. Her black hair surrounded her jawline then as she stepped out onto the balcony. The barrier of the railings was oddly shaped, a desolate slate grey, and she approached it slowly, her eyes acknowledging the other skyscrapers and towers around them. Shuttlecraft, speeders and the other numerous vehicles continued to swarm the skies. It was an endless parade, and she knew the city never truly slept. The winds began to pick up and she found that there was a slight step before the railing. No one was around to see her, and even if they could from the view of their shuttles, she was but a small thing compared to their sights. She clasped her broken wrist to her breast, whereas with her good hand, she pulled herself up onto the step and held onto the railing. The winds blew her hair past her eyes and rendered her cold.

_I can't trust anyone anymore. Even if I could try to open up to someone, he's muddled in his political affairs. He's a prisoner just as much as I am, and there's no one around to see this. Whatever hand fate has dealt me, I wish I could try and take it all back. In this world, there's no true justice unless we make it ourselves. One slip and I will resolve it all— I won't need to be anyone's prisoner anymore._

The stars above shined and she brought herself to use their glow, same for the fluorescent lighting around to see what she was doing. Her fingertips flashed white as she gripped the rail. The stories below seemed so vast. _An ocean of lights and structures_ , she thought. _I'll perhaps make it past the middle of the tower, but after that, perhaps my aorta will disconnect. Perhaps my cells will burst and my vessels break_. As to why her mind raced with thoughts of suicide, she did not know for sure but she understood that she was tired of hurting. As she began to hook a leg over the side, she was stopped. A pair of hands brought themselves to brush past her forearms, and two long arms hooked around her abdomen. She was jerked away immediately and together, she and the figure fell to the floor of the balcony. It was a violent pull, but yet at the same time, it was one of concern. Once she thudded to the ground, the weight of a man was atop of her.

"Are you out of your mind, girl?"

Immediately, the voice registered as Palpatine's. He pinned her there and through wet hair, he looked down at her. He was mindful of her wrist, and so he pushed down on her forearms. She lay there subdued and with tears glistening. Her head lay turned to the side and she dare not look at him. She saw the white hair out of the corner of her eye, and more so, she saw those furrowed brows pulled together in anger, in worry, in panic. He pulled her into his arms and with one hand, made her face look at his.

"This tower is over 1,010 stories tall. You would have been obliterated the moment you made it past the twentieth story. There'd be nothing left of you. Honestly, what were you thinking? Were you distressed because of what happened at the opera, or for the mere fact that you cannot seem to contemplate dealing with life? You should have come to me."

Víariya now met his blue eyes with her browns. The soft gleam of tears rested on the tips of her eyelashes; she was full of distress, this he could see. He pushed the hair out of her face and lifted her into his arms then. She wrapped her good arm around the back of his neck, and while he seemed somewhat disappointed, he was not completely cold to her. He pushed the doors open and made his way past the sofa and the other remnants of furniture. She saw then that he was leading her to the master bedroom. Her eyes went wide as her lips parted slightly. No proclamation of worry escaped her throat; her throat was dry and she couldn't say anything. Instead, she clenched her eyes shut and buried her face into the hollow of his throat.

\---

The smell of soap entered her nostrils and she deduced from the wetness of his hair, he had freshly showered. After he placed her down on his bed, one adored of black and red hues, she saw the refresher had a view of a monitor from the side of the door. The blue image had captured the empty balcony, and perhaps when he had been dressing, he saw her at the railing preparing to jump. He ran a towel over his head and rustled the water out of his flowing waves. She was captivated by his appearance for some odd reason, and as she watched him groom his hair with a comb, she looked away as he turned to face her. He took notice of her desperation to avoid his gaze, and he stepped closer. She backed further onto the bed and seemed fearful. His warm brows pulled together again.

"Do you think I'll hurt you?"  
  
Her lips moved and her tongue brushed against her teeth, forming a response. "I don't know. I cannot say I know you that well enough to muster a proper assumption."  
  
His slicked-back hair shone against the hue of his steel-blue eyes. "What does your mind tell you?" 

His inquiry rolled off his Naboo tongue rather well. The corner of his mouth seemed sharp in an upturned grin. She was confused by his persona somewhat, and yet, she could not help but be intrigued by him. She felt the stare of his eyes pierce her bodice. He perhaps could sense the undeniable racing of her heart beneath her sternum. Palpatine shifted closer as if he were reptilian. His stride was smooth and his eyes did not detour from her. Víariya's lips quivered as she exhaled softly, deeply.

"What are you going to do with me now? Keep me here?"

He sat down at the edge of his bed. His hand brought the train of her dress into his clutches, and he began to toy with the golden pearls embroidered there. "If I wanted to keep you a prisoner, I would have treated you inhumanly, don't you think? But since we are to be with each other more often, and sooner mind you, I wouldn't dream of harming you."

Her heart skipped a beat in the literal concept. Her throat swelled with alarm and her mind was trying to process what he meant. "What do you mean? Are you—?"

He slowly moved his hand over her pale, smooth leg and brought it to latch under both of them. He pulled her into his lap and she felt his robes open only slightly, whereas the patch of reddish-white curls was shown. Her lips were now inches away from his. Their faces were only apart only a little, and he brought his arm to wrap around behind her back. Their eyes would not draw away from each other's gaze, and it drew her in, it hypnotized her.

Her lungs felt congested and her cells became alight with panic. The dysphoria she felt overthrew her body then. Her breasts heaved as she inhaled and exhaled in a dazed, hyperventilating state. "You lie," she accused. "My father would never have made the decision to marry me off, especially against my will. But, are you the one who caused this mishap?"

"I don't quite understand. Why would you ever think of me in such a hostile way? Do you believe I've harmed you?"

"No, but..."

"Then it is settled. You'll remain here tonight and sleep in my bed. I will sleep elsewhere."

Víariya's thighs grew warmer than they did before. The tantalizing feeling of hotness pooled between her legs, past her labia and inside of her undoubtedly. She imagined now that it was his voice that did it to her. She pulled her brows together as his breath brushed against her earlobe. The rest of her body complied. She fell softer now that she was still in his arms, but then she saw visions form in her mind once more. She saw red velvet robes upon a figure. Two glowing yellow eyes burned beneath the red hood, and creases of a disorientated proportion shone with shadows chiseled between their gnarled form. 

She saw two strange beings at this figure's side, and she saw the members of the Senate in their repulsorpods forming an uproar. But in her vision, the eyes turned to face her. Then she had another short vision as well, one violent and quickening. Her father was in the vision and was held in place by two Coruscant guards. She saw herself in white, adorned with rich silver jewelry underneath the massive ceiling of the Senate building. But it was upon the podium she stood with him. Blood formed between her legs in said vision and red shone against the embroidered white of her gown. It was a loss of innocence in her mind. Or else, why would she bleed so brightly between her thighs?

"Are you tired, Víariya?"

She opened her eyes in a swift manner. She tried to turn her face away, but instead, she fell against his chest out of exhaustion. Her face burrowed against his throat, and her lips were at the gentle fold. She was lifted to lie down on her back then, and he steadied her as he propped her head once more. Her entire body began to relax and she saw how he moved away from her. For such a mysterious man, he did apparently have somewhat of a sense of propriety. As her tired eyes began to close, he covered her once more. The cushioning of the mattress held vibrators that began to massage her. Sleep-inducing harmonics began to ease her. Through her blurring eyes, Palpatine slipped off of the bed. He swept his fingers against her jawline and she slowly slipped into a deep sleep. 

"I shall take that as a sign for yes. Goodnight then, my dear. Perhaps you'll begin to think more kindly of me tomorrow," he mused.

\---

When she awoke the next morning, her body felt rejuvenated. It was as if the bed had healed her, had coaxed her fears and anxiety away. She left the sheets and saw that a new fresh robe was sitting at the edge of the bed. A black velvet box was now sitting atop of it as well, and it had a handwritten note tucked underneath a fine red ribbon. She looked around confused as she crawled towards the box. Once her fingertips unraveled the ribbon, she took the note away from it and began to read it. She sat down then on her hip and reclined carefully, as not to let her injured wrist swell in its cast.

" _I am most sorry to leave you like this, but I have been called away. Early in the hours of this morning, I was contacted by one of my representatives. He seems to know the location of your father's whereabouts, and with the most trusted members of the Coruscant guard, I have offered my services in helping to return him back to safety. While you slept, I had this robe made especially for you. The piece within the box was crafted for you as well. I shall return with your father in hand, that I promise. Palpatine_."

The ink of the note was beyond dry, and she deduced that he must have left only hours ago. Inside, her distrust for him only grew. She could not believe that he would go to great lengths to procure her father, to have such trinkets and clothes made for her when she knew he was cunning. He seemed to have been enticed by her, or at least, was trying to make her appeal to his vanity. Víariya placed the note down beside her knee and opened the box. Inside was a rather beautiful piece. It was an exquisite cabochon in a deep red color, set in an ornate black setting. Anodized aluminum with two weave circles at the sides showed, and elegant chains dropped down from the pendant with two small black orbs sitting beneath the jewel. It seemed rather dark, but so did the robes that matched the deep color. Her mind was rather mesmerized and astonished, shocked even by these fanciful gifts. It worried her that he was trying to bribe her somehow, or unless, he truly meant it when he wanted her to have these.

Her own dress she wore was ruined from her night terrors, as she had slight sweat stains upon them. She seemed flustered, and of course, it would be best if she changed. She took the robes into his private refresher with her. Once she began to bathe, the steam returned to her pores and cleansed her. She began to take great care in rinsing herself off, as she felt renewed and clean. The water rippled down her body again and the sound of the door to the apartment entered her ears. She turned off the water and made her way out of the refresher. She was careful to make sure her cast was not drenched, and as she clutched an elongated towel around her body, she silently crept towards the door. It was cracked open only slightly, and there she saw a few of the Coruscant guards searching Palpatine's quarters. Confusion overthrew her, but then as one of the leading officers spoke, her heart registered a different beat.

"Check his bedroom, his offices, everything— Chancellor Valorum wants her found immediately. If you see Chancellor Palpatine, serve him the warrant. We cannot let her go unguarded. Her life's in danger..."


	14. Changes in the Wind

She did not waste time in changing into the fresh clothes given to her. She did not care about how her hair appeared, nor did she care if she ran barefoot through the rooms with the hollow of her throat exposed. Her black hair appeared wild and as she ran, she saw the flowing lengths of her robes trail behind her. As she slipped through the door, one of the Coruscant guards eyed her.

"There! She's there!"

Her heartbeat began to race beneath her chest. Blood coursed through her with acute fear and she turned as many corners as she could. The dress she wore beneath was not nearly as heavy as the robes she wore, and she knew to gain further distance from the guards, she would have to lose them. She unclasped the dark gold brooch and as she continued onward, the dark red fabric fell to the floor behind her. With every deep inhale she took, she heard the guards hurrying after her still. They shouted at her for her to stop, but she refused. She did not if it was true or not, whether they worked for Valorum. She feared for herself, feared for her father. As she saw an elevator ahead, she raced towards it with all her strength. The front of her dress stayed clutched in her balled fists, and when she reached the elevator, she pressed for it to come to her. The guards were striving after her. Their weapons were drawn but not pointed at her. Her pulse came running through her body at an accelerated speed.

"Stop! We're to bring you to safety!"

She shook her head and heard as the doors to the elevator open. Rushing inside, she repeatedly hit for the doors to close, and they did as she pulled the train of her gown inside; the fabric almost caught but did not. The guards thudded against the closed doors and she slumped down against the walls of the elevator. Quickly, it descended through the many flights. Lights flickered through and she closed her eyes as to avoid their straining rays. She clutched the jewel she now wore around her neck. The cabochon seemed aflame in its red hue, and she wondered if the light had caught its dark spectrum. Nonetheless, she prayed with it in hand as if it were a token of a god. She remained safe from the Coruscant guard for the next three minutes. The elevator was taking its time in descending the flights, and as she looked out of its window, she saw the skies cloud together. It seemed as if fate were on her side, for she would be able to make use of the shadows provided. Once she reached the bottom flight of 500 Republica, she left without hesitation. As she rounded the corner, she saw more guards at the entrance of the grand tower. Others saw her as well and began to whisper. The women whispered to their men and the hushed talk suddenly became uproarious as the crowd saw the guards.

One of the second-in-commands saw her and approached her with a hand outstretched and the other upon a blaster rifle. "By orders of Supreme Chancellor Valorum, we are to bring you to the Senate Building for safety purposes. I have an order here, one written for your protection. Do not run. The Chancellor gave us orders to bring you back to his home alive. Comply and you won't be harmed." Her blood ran hotly then. She let go of the front of her dress and stood upright; her jaw clenched tightly and she grew panicked. 

"Am I under arrest then?"

The guards all circulated around her. Each one of them stared her down and were precise, aware. They were given orders not to harm her, but she was still on her own watch. Her eyes cautiously eyed their weapons, their body language. She cared not for the armed men, and nor did she care for politicians that they served. Still, she did not know truly if Valorum could be trusted; her heart raced against her mind with utter disdain. She was apprehended then by two of the armored guards, and they each held onto her arms without the accompaniment of shackles or bondage. Víariya's throat tensed, and as they escorted her outside to the transport speeder, she did not say a single word.

\---

She was released once they entered Valorum's home. She saw the pale blue of the room floating around her, and she could not see the strange, blistering reds from her visions. The guards stood on either side of the door, and as she was put into a seat before the desk, her heart palpitated in her chest. Her pulse was weak but apparent. It had been an undeniable parade of unfortunate events since the last night she saw him, and she was afraid. She was afraid of what he might think of her. One of the service droids offered her something to drink and she clutched onto it timidly. The crystal sat in her hands and rarely did she take a sip. Her throat was too clenched in fear to speak, to swallow. Just as she placed it down, the sound of the doors hissed open and she looked behind her. 

Valorum walked in fanciful robes that reminded them that his position was extinguished. However, her inner voice mentioned great concern to her conscience. Valorum saw her sitting there with her eyes affright, and then he looked to all his guards. "Leave us now." The men stood confused, silent, but as Valorum's blue eyes became icy, indisputable, they bowed their heads once and all aligned to exit the room. The single-file line left their sights and it was in that moment that Valorum raced over to her. His arms pulled her up into their hold and he buried his face in the crown of her forehead. He broke away from her and began to plead, began to explain, but she stopped him first.

"Ex-Chancellor or not, you have a very strange way of sending rescuers after someone."

"Forgive me. I thought you'd been killed. I was on my way there when I heard the opera was attacked, but instead, I was making a swift guard patrol arrive there to secure the perimeters once I heard there were causalities. It was only then that I heard that you'd been taken. I tried to have my guards find you, but his own menservants found you instead. Víariya, please forgive me. Please," he rasped. 

He grasped her face in his hands as to crane her head gently, to face him so that he could see the innocence and honesty in his own eyes. She saw the gleam of truth there and was not angered with him. She was angered with herself. _If I had not made the decision to agree to go with Father to the Senate that night, none of this would have happened. Those people would still be here and alive. I do not judge Valorum's thought process, only the attempts of the men who follow his orders._

In the instant she remembered the commander's words, she recalled the warrant called for Palpatine's arrest. She remembered how then it was dangerous to insult a politician, let alone call him out for events that he may or may not have orchestrated. Whatever the case was, she only thought it was foolish on Valorum's part. After all, Palpatine came from an ancient family. His name was renowned throughout the galaxy, and most knew that he was sly, cunning, much like his father Cosinga. Only a mind of an equal disposition would understand. As she looked down at her feet, Valorum saw her concentrating on not looking him in the eye any further. He released her and she sat down slowly, paying no mind. She was still afraid due to what happened at the opera. She remembered the screams of the women, the awful grunting of the men as they fell to the floor. Her body tensed and she felt her wrist pain once more.

"What made you sign a warrant?"

"Víariya..."

"Other than the fact that Palpatine generally seems to be distrustful, what other explanation do you need?"

Víariya stood upright then and looked down at Valorum, whose own face was now turned away from her. She took his chin into her fingers gently. "Tell me the truth. Did you discover something about him? Is that why you ordered for his arrest?"

The silence between them grew deafening. Every time he wished to speak, it seemed his throat wouldn't allow the sound to escape it. It was as if his words were shot and his tongue was tied. She let him go then and began to imagine the room. It was the same office space as she had seen in her dream, and though the colors were different, she knew they would soon turn the color of blood. Whether by tomorrow or in the next eight years, she knew they would change. Her heart felt it so.

"I discovered something, yes," Valorum finally said. "It is not for the faint of heart though."

"I don't care if it is gruesome or dark. Whatever tribulations he has inflicted on others, I want to hear it. My future and perhaps my life is at risk, Chancellor. I deserve to know this man before I become entangled in matters I cannot undo myself."

His breath stilled. "What do you mean?"

She exhaled and shivered altogether. She shook her head slowly and felt the inept feeling of horror fall over her. In her bones, in her blood and heart, she could feel that this Palpatine was a liar. A suave, handsome and cunning liar, but one dangerous all the same. Víariya's hands gripped together briefly, but then she touched her necklace, remembering she was still wearing it. The cabochon ruby glistened between her pale fingers, and she twisted at it, thinking to herself of what was to come. Valorum gathered himself and stood in front of her once more. "What do you mean, Víariya? Has Palpatine threatened you?"

"No," she simply said. "And when you're prepared to disclose the information about this other man, I shall be here and ready to listen. But I must know where my father is. Can you tell me whether or not if your guards have been looking for him, patrolling this area at least?"

"Coruscant is a vast ecumenopolis, you know this. Even with my men searching everywhere, no one else has come forward with information of your father's whereabouts. Whether or not Palpatine himself has anything to do with it, I am not sure. We are looking, I promise. I won't have Senator Anrínu die for someone's misdeeds."

 _Please do not jest with me_ , she thought. _I have seen people die for someone's misdeeds. Last night at the opera, there was blood. I saw it and you did not. If you are still half the chancellor you used to be, sir, you must have the courage to face the dark when it comes. Light will not always be here, for life is a true ideology of both death and wonder. I pray you to find it in your conscience to redeem yourself through this position. I hope that I didn't voice my opinion for someone who cannot stand up for others._

She lifted the front of the dark red robes and turned towards the door. Bowing her head once and keeping it there at its low depth, she felt her heart sink. As she left the offices, Valorum was rendered silent.

"Find my father, Chancellor. That's all I ask of you."

\---

When she returned to her own apartments, she entered the vast den. The droid was there, though powered down and on 'sleep' mode. It was rather silent and as she walked through the shadows, she saw the windows blocked the lively view of the city. She began to make her way through the den to her rooms, but she was suddenly stopped by something hidden, covered in the centerfold of the room. It was tall and perched on a pedestal with a grey cloth covering it. It was massive, with its fabric hiding something virtuous. Víariya's feet trekked her closer. She outstretched a hand and curiously, pulled the cloth off of what it was hiding.

In front of her then was a faceless steel mannequin, but one adorned in a fanciful silk gown. The very train of it was brought to rest tightly against the foot of the pedestal, but from what she could see of it, it was tailored in a cathedral length; the bodice of the gown was rounded atop, with a slight heart shape at its top. The gown itself was embroidered with shining diamonds, and the long sleeves were christened at the off-length setting where they were sewn to the gown's bodice itself. It was a lush white-creme color, and in all its splendor, there was no veil sitting atop the mannequin's head. She shook her head in awe, in twisted nausea. She backed away from it and could not stop staring at it. V-C3 powered on then and hummed towards her. "I have a recording, Mistress. Would you like for me to play it for you?"

Perplexed, she answered immediately. "Yes, please."

The droid did as she asked. It turned to the side away from her and the gown, and it powered the blue image. The recording began to play, and it was of course none other than Palpatine speaking to her.

" _My dear Víariya, please accept this gown I have crafted for you. In the hours of late, I know that much has become a deep turmoil for you, especially now with the traumatic experience at the opera and the abduction of your father. If you would please join me once more tonight, I shall tell you where he is. My men have discovered the location and I have deployed them to bring him back. Please, come to me and I shall reveal all to you._ "

The image cut and static crackled on the age-old droid. She knew in her heart something was not right; either it was Palpatine or Valorum who was lying, and as to who knew how to play their cards correctly, she did not know. In all reality, she knew what this was. A _courtship_ , an _arrangement_ , a _powerplay of seduction_. All she knew was that it was a wedding gown before her and nothing more. It was symbolic of her future, one that she had knew died in her dreams. Her visions were almost always certain of one thing— it always had something to do with this man. It always simplified what she always feared, and as she stepped closer, the droid approached her, he said, "This could be a trap, Mistress. Or, he could be speaking the truth of his feelings for you."

She was more clever than that, or at least, she hoped she was. She felt in her mind she could not trust Palpatine, but something was coaxing her out of her shell, trying to get her to understand him. Nonetheless, all she wanted was her father to be home and returned safely. If Palpatine would tell her what she wanted to hear, then how could she risk the chance to not find out where her sole parent was?

"I am going, and that is my final decision. If I am cut down, so be it. I must know where Father is. It is killing me inside and the longer I wait, the more clear it becomes that he might be closer to death at every minute. If this is my last night of freedom, then so be it. I do not fear death."


	15. Past the Point of No Return

When she arrived at the Chancellor’s apartments, all was decorated strangely. Black vases were full of fresh white flowers, and their appearance seemed so foreign, so odd for the place they were in. A long white carpet began at the doors and rolled up the flight that led towards the windows and the balcony. It was made elegant and full of life, so it seemed. It was a stark contrast compared to the hues of red and themes of the dark. At the odd pairing of light and dark, her stomach felt twisted with nausea. It was not natural and she knew that for certain. Her feet trekked her inside and the doors closed themselves behind her figure. When she entered, she saw the two Neimoidians sitting there on the sofa where she had fallen asleep once before. Their robes were as placid as their red eyes, and their hats gave a contour of shadow and deceit that befell their green flesh. _Witnesses_ , she thought. _I should have known he would not speak to me privately_. Once they acknowledged her, they stood and made cautious steps towards her direction.

"Lady Víariya? Amidala's _handmaiden_? We are honored by your presence. If you are wondering, the Chancellor is running late. He is returning with your father, and he has told us to relay to you that he wishes for you to make yourself comfortable," one said. "It should not be long now."

Her skin crawled with fear. "And who might you be, if I may ask? I know you are Neimoidian, of course, and I believe we glanced at each other not that long ago. Please, tell me who you are."

The two aliens stared at each other in slight alarm. Their faces switched back and forth from looking at each other, then to her. She had startled them undoubtedly, and as she made her way towards Palpatine's desk, the one in the orange and maroon robes quickly replied to her. "I-I am Nute Gunray, and this is my associate, Rune Haako. We are... friends to Chancellor Palpatine. We are simply waiting to speak with him as you are."

She arched a brow and nodded once. She was trying to give the impression she was unaware of their secrecy, but with the way these creatures were hesitant to answer her, to speak with her, she assured them that she was 'oblivious.' Still, she thought secretly to herself.

_A common lie, I'm sure. Most times when someone is already here before the intended party, that means a secret meeting has either taken place, or they are already waiting to align themselves with a new plan to set everything else in motion. Lie to me once more, gentlemen. I'll know it immediately._

Víariya's shoulders were bare but she did not react to their words with gooseflesh; it would have been a common sign of nervousness, but she would not give in to fear for the Neimoidians. She was stronger than that, braver than what she had once been. Instead, she went to walk towards the balcony, past the small glass table. As the two aliens stared at her nape, the doors swung open. She turned around and faced it immediately. In between the panes of glass, there stood two Coruscant guards with her father in their hands. He was beaten, bruised and had a swollen black eye. His head was lowered with his white braid a long mess, and he looked famished; the robes he wore were tattered and ripped as if he had been thrown into a pit with a Rancor. He was thrown into the apartment then and he thudded to the floor. Eyes widened, she raced towards him. Her heart was beating with trepidation, with dread, and she felt her skin crawling once more. She had never seen him bloodied before, and it frightened her.

"Father!"

"Lady Víariya," Gunray said. "You must wait! The Chancellor will explain everything."

Though she was enraged, in tears, it was Haako who subdued her and held her back. His green, pointed fingers grasped her upper forearms and he held her back. She thrashed in his grip, and she tried to kick back at his knees. The more she struggled, the more apparent it was her father could not breathe on his own. He lay there continuously without moving. The guards simply stepped back, turned around and began to watch the glass doors to the apartment.

"Let go of me!" she screamed. "Guards, guards, what are you doing? Tell this Neimoidian to let me go! Guards!"

They did not respond. Only their backs remained towards her view. Instead, Gunray circled around to look her in the eye as Haako held onto her. "My lady Víariya, you should not make this difficult. The Chancellor only means well for you. If you cooperate, your lord father shall not be harmed any further. Please, learn to take in self-control."

"Self-control? Self-control, you green bastard? I shall not stand here pliant and dormant while you have my only parent on the ground! Tell him to let me go or I will have you arrested! Now!"

Her blood boiled beneath her skin. The browns of her irises flashed dark, black almost, and as she continued to fight Haako's grasp, it was then that Gunray backed away. He turned the moment he heard the guards speaking to their leader. "Sir, we have the Senator and his daughter inside."

Her father immediately grew panicked. He looked over his shoulder with his only good eye, and he crawled away as fast as he could. He mustered through the pain and grunted, groaned as he slid himself across the floor. "Keep him away!"

"Father!"

Palpatine entered the room with a look of confusion upon his face. He stared across the way towards Gunray and Haako; the two Neimoidians wrung their hands together as they saw him. Haako released Víariya and she charged past the table, kneeling down beside her father. She saw him cling to her then as if he were a frightened child, and she brought him into a protective hold. Her eyes were still dark and her brows were sharp.

"What is the meaning of this!" she growled. "And why do you have these two here? Hmm, was it to make sure you had witnesses in case something went wrong, Chancellor?"

He simply shook his head. "Not at all, my love. Please, won't you allow me to explain?"

In a slow stride, he approached them both. Her father went to barricade her with his arms, but instead, the guards came inside from behind Palpatine and wrenched him off of her. They placed him onto the sofa and put him in restraints. He wheezed, and she deduced that he must have had broken ribs. Her main worry was that he had ruptured or punctured a lung. The guards remained beside her father and kept their blaster rifles prepared. She stood up from the floor then and went to strike Palpatine. Her hand wrenched itself back and as she swung, he caught her wrist and pulled her back to meet his chest. A swift shriek left her lips and his hand caught her throat. Her head craned to the side and she could not move.

He put his lips to her ear in a soft brush and hushed her as if she were a child experiencing a tantrum. Her fingernails were longing to claw at his face, at any skin of his exposed, but he was stronger than she was; even in his old age, he seemed more powerful. Across from them, Gunray and Haako's faces frowned and their red eyes blinked frantically. They did not even need a verbal order to leave, and the two of them walked past those present, their robes trailing behind them as they rushed out. The guards kept their watch over Anrínu. As Palpatine smiled, he brushed her hair away from her throat. There he saw the now-fading bite over her jugular vein. Leaning down, he kissed the flesh there. Her legs grew weak and he held her upright. As his lips touched her skin, the realization that it could only have been him stunned her.

Looking all over, she cried, "It was you. It was always you."

"Are you that astonished?"

Oddly, he released her. She looked at him over her shoulder and saw how his face was calm, almost emotionless. His lips did not move and nor did his cheeks. Only his eyes conveyed the message of casual admittance. She stepped forward and stared him down, though it was useless. He touched her face with one of his hands and brushed her jawline with his thumb. Now his brows pulled together as if he were wounded. The strange look of despair flashed across his face. She could not believe what he was attempting, and also, she could not believe what he had done to her father. Still, his thumb brushed over her lower lip. The softness there received a light groan from him, and as she felt his body press against hers, she could have sworn she saw a tint of desolate yellow in his irises.

\---

Anrínu was now put on a ventilation system. It covered his face and the mask allowed only his eyes to be seen. He was put on a hoverbed and was monitored by a droid. The sound of his heart rate entered her ears in a rhythmic tune. Fluids coursed into his system and circulated through his veins. While a medical droid stood by as well, she had been pulled into another half of his apartment just hours before, and as the guards stood outside the room. Palpatine had ordered it. She had heard those words escape his lips and it worried her.

"Are you ever going to explain to me as to why my father is near death?"

Palpatine held her in his arms still. As the two of them looked out of the window, his hands were wrapped around her abdomen, resting just beneath her large breasts. His lips were still at her ear, and as they stood together, he inhaled her scent. The smell of peonies from Lake Country entered his nostrils. It was a sweet scent, an innocent scent. As the winds blew through the opened windows, it gave away the scents she wore alone with the intoxicating aroma of her fear. His lips found her skin in a slow instance. Her muscles shivered and his hand slid up her arm, resting on her shoulder. No one was around to see them. Even if anyone could see their figures, they could not clearly gain an image. Those around would be moving too fast to see them. Or to care for that matter. The citizens of Coruscant were not always in the interest of looking after others. Still, her question remained.

As he turned her to face him, he used both hands to brush her hair away from her face, to rest behind her shoulder blades. He wanted to see every inch of her. As she awaited his response, Palpatine bent his knees and lowered himself, crouching slightly. His arms wrapped around her lower legs, underneath her round buttocks, and he lifted her into the air. In shock, she wrapped her arms around him for support. An arm hitched underneath her legs then and he began to carry her bridal style. Eyes widened, she knew what room it was. Her fingernails clawed at her own palms in sheer distress.

"I will not speak of this in the earshot of my guard. But at least, you'll know the truth you so desperately long to hear."

Once they entered the bedroom, he placed her down upon the soft mattress and pressed his figure into hers. The weight of his hips pinned her there and he kept his hand at her throat, and always, he kept his thumb at her lower lip, brushing it. Víariya's tongue grew wet and her nipples were aroused beneath her dress. Upon feeling them grow erect, they brushed against the silk and became pronounced. It did not take long to draw his attention. She threw her head to the side to avoid his eyes. A deep, raspy chuckle left his mouth and he lowered his lips to meet her jawline. A wet trail left by his tongue produced a warm feeling between her legs. Tears formed again and again, and yet, she could not help but feel seduced in all her uncomfortable restlessness.

"Tell me or let me leave," she softly cried. "I won't tell you again."

Palpatine's hand slid down between her legs as he moved off of her, and she exclaimed the moment the cold clamminess met her hot flesh. Her mouth opened completely and her womb somersaulted with anguish, with fear. His fingertips traced the curve of her mound and she felt embarrassed, flushing red as he softly stroked her gentle curls. A frightened shriek left her lips as he prodded her.

"So he was telling the truth— you're still a virgin."

Víariya's lips quivered. "Wh-what does that have to do with anything? Stop touching me..."

"It has everything to do with this, my dear. If only your father were well enough to tell you himself."

Her heart stopped. Her breath hitched in her throat and everything from her feet to her lungs burned. "What do you mean?"

He removed his fingers from her and snapped them in mid-air. A droid entered from around the corner, powering up its systems. It began to play a recording of a conversation between himself and her father. Víariya's eyes watered and she could not be bothered to miss a single word. As they lay there together on his bed, he gripped her face and forced her to watch the droid play the imagery of her father's betrayal.

\---

" _And you'll grant me access to her cleanliness?"_

In the recording, her father seemed distraught. His own eyes were brimmed with tears and she could see them falling through the blue static. " _Yes, Chancellor Palpatine. You may have it_."

 _"And in return, all you wish for is funds for your campaign, is it? My, my, it is not often I have another ancient house coming to mine for help, or rather, for money. When was it that you went poorly?_ "

 _No_ , her brain screamed. _No, no, no— you're lying, you're lying and I don't believe you. Father wouldn't... No, he wouldn't. I cannot believe that he would forge an alliance with you. He couldn't. He would never. Please, no._

The recording continued. " _I went bankrupt when Nute Gunray came to me for support. He needed a strong member's support from the Senate to help ensure a secretive trade route from the outer rims of Naboo to Coruscant. I gave him all the funds he requested. He also needed access to ports and supplies he could not gain without the help of myself. I auctioned my family's prized possessions, save for the house I own in Lake Country. I even had to sell Víariya's birth family, as they needed workers and spies. Whatever brothers she had, they used them in their agency. But, Chancellor, I do love that girl as if she were my own. I cannot risk seeing her unhappy. She was already in disarray when I adopted her. Please, do not harm her_."

In the recording, Palpatine's voice rang in its digital tone, dark and deep. Each vowel, consonant, and sentence entered her ears clearly.

" _Very well, Senator Anrínu. I will fund your campaign, in exchange for your daughter's hand in marriage and the promise of her maidenhead. Do we have an accord?_ "

The final words of the visual recording stunned her. " _Yes, we do._ "

Once the droid finished showing the blue imagery, Palpatine had it leave. He looked at her and saw how lifeless she looked. All color drained from her face and her temples were soaked with tears. His lips found her ear, and as he stroked her jaw, then her breast, he whispered lowly to her.

"You belong to me now, my love. You are mine..."


	16. Unbreakable Allegiance

Though the condition of her father had changed somewhat, he was unable to stand upright and keep full consciousness. His pulse was slow but steady. His breathing was still aided by the ventilation system, and the medical droid there monitored him closely. It treated his black eye and the abrasions upon the crown of his forehead. The blood was swept away with a clean cloth, and peroxide was dabbed there to clean the small wounds. As his lungs ached, the droid checked for any broken ribs or a punctured lung. The scanner hummed over the Senator's chest and took pictures. The droid looked closely and saw that his second and third ribs had indeed been broken. Neither of his lungs had been pierced, and for that, she was indecisive. She did not know what to think. No, her mind was blank when it came to this man— he who was her _father_ , her _trafficker_.

As Víariya saw the droid tend to him, Palpatine came up behind her. She still wore the necklace he provided her, and she stroked the cabochon ruby within its dark metal. Her brows were pulled upward in a scowl of hurt, of heartache. She walked inside the other room and her dress dragged past the glass doors. The droid turned around to acknowledge her. The robotic humming of its medical scanner entered her ears then, and as she approached the hovering table, her father opened his unharmed eye and looked at her with a tear glistening his own lid. It fell from the corner of his eye and he went to hold her hand. Shakily, he grasped onto her. Her skin went cold and her heart jolted once, then felt dead. There was an emergency tracheotomy to help him breathe, and with the tubing sticking out, pronounced and clear, he tried to speak to her. His thin lips formed the words, and wheezily, he managed miraculously to speak clearly.

"Víariya, please... f-forgive me."

The dichotomy of love and hate ripped through her, combined with the essence of confusion. Her veins ran cold and it felt as if she herself were drained of life. The hair on the back of her nape stilled and she could barely move. She did not know what to say to him. Her lips wanted to form words and yet, she had not a single idea of what to speak. Palpatine stood from afar and watched her stand there, silent with her head shaking. Her father latched onto her hand with his strength, and he pulled her closer. With his fingers shaking from either pain or lack of strength, he brought her knuckles to his lips. She could not tell if he meant this act of pleading. She was reluctant to believe him, and as she began to breathe with burning in her own lungs, Palpatine walked in behind her. He rested his hands on her shoulders and unnervingly, made her feel uncomfortable as he put his lips to her ear.

"What shall become of him, my pet? Shall he lay here on the verge of death, or shall I dispatch him  
for you?"

She wrenched herself out of his hold and released her father's hand. She backed away, shaking her head wildly. "No, no, you will not harm him!"

The room shook then with a half-violent trembling, and as the droid went to go by the hovering table, its insides shattered. The vials that contained the liquids to run its circuits broke and the glass fell out of its innards and down to the floor. Its metallic body tensed and crumpled inside as it fell to the floor. The lighting of the room flickered. As she closed her eyes, she rose her hands to her temples and pleaded, cried as she collapsed to the floor. "Stop! Stop it all!"

Palpatine's hand rose outward and he motioned his fingers to close slowly. It made a grasping hold, and as she looked upward, her eyes went wide and her throat tensed. A pressure came upon it and she choked. Her brown irises glazed and she tried to breathe, but she tried to stop him. With one of her eyes darkening, growing luminescent and then bright, she wrenched herself free and threw him backward. He crashed against the glass and it shattered beneath him. His reptile-like robes cascaded around his figure and broke his fall. The 'scales' shimmered in their threading and seemed dark, dangerous against the glass. He rolled onto his knees and though his hands were bare, he pushed himself up and smiled. The shards slightly cut his hands and as he brushed them off, he went to lick the blood welling to the surface of the small scrapes.

"Incredible," he laughed, his tone haughty. "I can't imagine how I failed to see it before. You will be a dutiful wife, and an enticing ally if you ever decided to claim the full potential of your powers."

Víariya's eyes could not hold back the sight of rage. Her scleras were reddened from both tears and the fear building in those small vessels. A twinge of light shone through the wetness of her corneas. What once was there, an innocent look in it of itself was now tainted with imagery of red and light yellow. Her fingertips dug into her palms. Blood welled to the surface and lightly burrowed beneath her nails. She had so much hatred coursing through her veins that it astonished even her. Her father lay there subdued but not blind. He furrowed his brows together as he saw the colors of his daughter's eyes change very quickly. Her hues became a violent gold, then they faded into a deep brownish-yellow color. The shades changed erratically as if they were fighting for dominance. All she knew in all her rage was that she wanted him dead. If he were gone, he would no longer haunt her or taint her family. The Anrínu bloodline would no longer be affiliated with his family or their abhorrent reign, the same with their dangerous influences across the galaxy. 

Her nails burrowed into her flesh still, and as she looked at her father, whose tracheal tube was now muddled with old blood. He slowly began to choke, and as he began to seize on the table, his muscles spasmed and his blood continued to run through the tube though it was blocking his airways. He was now suffocating. She stood upright, ran towards the table, but as Palpatine raced towards her, his hand caught her arm. He pulled her against his chest and detained her.

"I can save your father. I can have the droid perform an emergency procedure to save his life, but you must do one thing in order to save him."

"Not now! He's dying! Please, please let the droid save him, please!"

"Only one answer. That is all I need and your father's life will be saved."

Through her blaring eyes, the yellows muddled back into the browns; the anger was beginning to leave her, and now, emptiness and despair flooded her instead. The weakness of knowing her father's life was in peril ran through her. She felt Palpatine's eyes staring at her, waiting, watching. She knew he must have a response and if she was to save her father, what more could she do? The droid was on emergency standby. The tools were prepared, and they all sat on a silver tray held by the droid's second set of hands. The grip on her arm was tightened now. Through the blurring of her vision, she saw her father's life waning before her. If a decision was not made quickly, his death would be imminent. She could not, and at least for the moment, would not have that on her conscience.

Defeated, she craned her backward and let a tear fall. "Very well. If you save him, I will do as you ask. Just do not let him die this way. Please. You have my word I will join houses with you, so don't turn your back on me."

The corner of Palpatine's thin mouth pulled back, and his cheek became dented with dark dimples, same with his teeth also showing in their crooked sharpness. While he did not have elongated canines, he was still a monster to her. Even if he was not disfigured, malformed or exposed in a different light, she would not have him go back on his word. If she honored her word as an Anrínu, he would have to comply. The droid looked for Palpatine's command and shot over to the dying senator. She shed a tear as her father's choking ceased, but her heart kept sinking in her chest, for Palpatine's lips were at her throat, licking its mark much like the predator he was.

\---

Hours later, Senator Anrínu was returned to a calm state. His trachea was now clear and free of contaminants, of the blood that had pooled there from the rupture beforehand. The tubing had been cleaned and replaced, and as he lay there with stitches upon his throat, he was monitored still. His pulse was now back to its normal rate, and as he lay there with an IV in each of his arms, she stood there with her head bowed lowly. The thick blackness of her hair was pulled back behind her shoulder blades, and it was separated into three braids atop; the rest of her hair flowed beneath them and held small gypsophila buds. She wore then the same dress as she had received before back at her apartments, and as she stood with her hands folded gently across her abdomen, her father stirred. He saw her in that commissioned dress, and he felt a sense of dread, of worry for her.

"Víariya..."

"Do not speak, Father. Lie still and rest. Or am I still at liberty to call you that?"

His caramel-colored skin turned a lighter shade, and she wondered if it was either from his previous loss of blood or if it was from the insurmountable amount of guilt he was amassing. His own dark eyes filled with tears and he tried not to look at her, but he could not. He weakly reached for her hand with his own. He brushed her skin with his thumb, and as he pulled her in closer, she stood there in her pre-marital look with the gaze of disdain upon her soft face. He felt her anger still rooting there in her heart.

"What I did... I did for our house."

She shook her head. "You did it for your own bloodline. I am an adopted child, remember? I have no legal standings. I am not worthy of being your heir. The law stipulates a true-born child should inherit her father's estate and legacy. Bastards of either gender tend to be frowned upon. But I am not your blood, am I? No. Even if I was yours biologically, would you still have sold my life and my maidenhead?"

He sat up very weakly. He craned to roll onto his hip, and he released her hand, using his to help balance himself as he looked at her. His bare feet swung over the edge of the table and he stood. A hand balanced itself on the rim of the table, and as he stepped closer to her, she backed away with fear, hate, and sadness in her eyes.

"Daughter, please. I still love you. That has never changed and nor will it. I have done many wrong things in my life, things that are unimaginable and unforgivable. But rescuing you, adopting you, Víariya— I will never regret that. You are my child. I have betrayed you so terribly, and I don't wish for you to marry him. I regret selling you to him like that and because of my actions, I am losing one of the only people I have ever cared about. Please, let us leave Coruscant together. I will take you past Naboo and hide you in nebulae far, far away from here. Forgive your father, please. I love you, my girl."

His pleas sounded sincere, save for the warning in her heart. It signaled that she could not, and should not, trust in the deceit of any kind; he had been so genuine in their past and now, she could not recognize friend or enemy or even family. The gooseflesh returned to her as she turned to face the other direction. The feeling of his eyes on her nape unnerved her. Her hands found her forearms and she brushed them as if she were cold. Her head lowered itself again and she stared blankly at the floor, then at the train of her dress. It was the dress that she was, undoubtedly, to marry within. As she stepped closer to the pane of glass, she looked out through a nearby window. The traffic of the shuttlecrafts and vehicles could not distract him as she wanted them to. Her eyes closed and it was only then that she heard her intended's voice. With her wrist now bound in bandages instead of the cast, it felt as though it signaled a warning throughout the rest of her body. She held onto it and stroked it gently, hearing Palpatine's voice drowning in her ears.

_Are you so certain that you can trust him, my love? Can you believe any of the words he has told you? Search the hate in your heart. Does it tell you to forgive him, or does it tell you to end this lie, this forged bond as it were? You are my strong mate. You alone can decide his fate and your own. I am but your passionate master, but you are undoubtedly a queen of queens. You show strength and you do not downplay to those who are unworthy. You are the sword-carrier. You are the one who can decide now when to end it all. All you have to do is believe in your hate, and it will come to you._

"But that is the way of the Sith," she whispered to herself. "I do not believe in either sect. Their lords and the Jedi knights do not exist to me. As I live and breathe, I believe in myself. I am the one who controls my fate. Not you."

"V-Víariya?"

Of course, something inside of her could not handle the pain anymore. She had never been betrayed before, and the emotions, the experience of it was all too new. She doubts it would be the last time she would be betrayed, but she believed in justice; she felt it was in her power, in her blood to ascertain the consequences she thought for him. Turning around and facing away from the window, she trembled as she spoke. Her lungs burned and her tears kept flowing down her pale cheeks.

"You have hurt me for the last time," she cried, her voice breaking. "I am the one who will avenge myself upon you, and now that I am to undertake this falsified life, for your sake mind you, I will never again believe a word you say. Once I am the Lady of House Palpatine, I shall convene the Senate. They will decide your fate, Father. I pray our paths do not cross once more because I do not believe either one of us will be able to handle the other's treachery and wounds. As I will it, so shall it be. Guards."

Three men walked in. Their blaster rifles remained aimed at the floor, but their eyes studied them continuously beneath the rims of their helmets. They looked for direction, waited for her orders. Once she looked at her father, two of them walked behind him and grasped his arms carefully yet securely.

"Take Senator Anrínu back to his own apartments. I ask that you leave 500 Republica with complete discretion. Once he is home, secure him there and watch over him. If another medical emergency should arise, send for the medical droid. But for now, please take him away. I can't stand this anymore."

The men began to escort her father out of the room. He was still weakened in his stance, he deduced that his prose held no effect on her. Once they were walking through the doors, he saw his daughter standing there in her wedding dress. Her head was turned away and the tears kept falling from her face. "Goodbye."

"Víariya, please! I am your father!"

The four men were now out of view. She slumped down and fell to the floor, wrapping her cathedral train around her arms. She thought of it as a shawl and tried to hide. "Not anymore."

\---

She walked through the wide space of Palpatine's apartments. The dress hung behind her more so like a funerary veil, and as she tied to hide in its beauty, she felt diminished. She no longer felt like the dutiful daughter she was, and nor did she feel as if she were about to be a bride for the intended change of good. She felt cold as she approached. Palpatine himself was now adorned in his own wedding robes, and the custom of wearing dark reds, combined with black and the gold of his family's legacy. He wore an embroidered waistbelt, and as he finished putting the magnificent coat on, he turned around and saw her there. His haughtiness returned as he marched towards her.

He placed his fingers at her chin and lifted her face. "Why does my bride look so melancholic? On most of their wedding days, brides are usually overjoyed. You have that grim look on your face as if you're going to a funeral," he jested.

Her eyes met his and she felt everything growing intensely. Her veins went cold the moment he stepped to her once more. Their faces were so close then and as he brought an arm around her back, he pulled her in. Their lips were only inches apart and she felt the hot warmth of his breath.

"You swear to be my wife? To live and die with me, to be mine and no one else's? If you choose to put your allegiances elsewhere, I will hurt you in ways you cannot even imagine. And I shall take the greatest pleasures in committing said acts..."

The gown she wore symbolized her newfound cage. It was not made of iron and nor was it black, but knowing this was her wedding shroud frightened her. Still, she gave her word, and she was not one to renounce it out of cowardice.

"Yes," she said. "I swear it. Just promise me that you'll end me when the time comes."


	17. Of Red Weddings and Covenants

As she finished dressing into her gown once more, she was then assisted by two handmaidens from his ancient house. They bore his family colors, his crest, and she dreaded seeing those. The first older woman tended to her hair, the other to her cathedral train. The first elderly woman braided the surface of her hair and left the rest of her flowing blackness untouched. She carefully wove small, blood-red iris flowers in the junctions of the braids. The fresh-sprinkled flowers added life back to her appearance, but deep down, Víariya felt that her heart had been absconded. It felt as if a shallow depth was lurking in her chest, and as she folded her hands to rest peacefully in front of her, the women continued to work upon her. The train of her dress, however, had been 'modified.' 

The silk had been given an ombré effect, and now instead of a glistening white, it was a dark, shinning blood color. The white transitioned into the red very gently, and as she stepped onto the small pedestal, she saw the full length adorned in the new color scheme. She smelled something different on the air, but yet it was all too familiar. As she brought herself to further examine the train, she noticed what had been used for dye. Her first instinct was a shock. Her second instinct told her to step down from the pedestal, to carry the long heaviness of the silk behind her. In all truth, she was beside herself. The membranes of her mind reverberated with thoughts of death, of panicked cries echoing. Her brain seized with cold and then her flesh shivered. She heard the sound of her father's voice ringing in her ears. One scream shot through her and it carried with it a forced obeisance unlike any she heard before. It caused great alarm in her heart, and thus, she rushed away from both of the women.

"Lady Víariya!" one of them called. "Please come back! Master Palpatine will be furious with us if we do not tend to you! Mistress, please!"

The heavy weight of the gown did not stop her. She trailed around the corner of the apartment, down one of the magnificent red halls, and as she saw her intended standing there, his own wedding robes were still upon his person. She entered with her hands clenched together and her shoulders shaking. It was not from the filtered cold air, but from the fact that she knew what had been used to 'beautify' her gown. She only wished to hear him confirm it. As her feet trekked her over to her groom, the feeling of existential dread flooded her. She felt numbness in both her toes and her fingers, and as she felt a crushing weight against her breast, he saw her and acknowledged the look on her face. His own face went cold and unsure the moment he saw her fear.

"Are you having second thoughts?"

She shook her head angrily and came face-to-face with him, her proximity so close to his. Their bodies were only inches apart and as she turned to the side, she pulled the elongated train in her hands. She retracted it until the red ombré was in her palms. She shuddered as she felt it was still wet; her fingers were smeared and her face became eclipsed with an emotional trance. She held up her train in a terrified manner. She smelled the iron and almost collapsed from fear, but did not. 

"Tell me this is not what I believe it to be," she cried. "Whose blood is this?"

"You have much to learn yet, my dear..."

"Whose blood is it!"

Palpatine's hand cupped the side of her face and he brought her in close. He kissed the crown of her forehead. The scent of his cologne and the aroma of red wine lingered on his lips; she could smell the alcohol rather clearly. He was not completely inebriated, and in fact, he was hardly intoxicated. She saw the wine on the corners of his lips, and he seemed vampiric in nature, as the wine shone there like droplets of crimson. He frightened her in the mere lighting of the apartment. Once he released her, she let the train fall to the floor. Her fingertips felt colder then, especially as he swept his hands onto her shoulders. Heat pooled between her legs and she felt ashamed at his touch. Still, as he circled around her, his voice entered her ears and her nipples became erect. 

"Your enemies will always try to find a way to stand between you and the things you want most. It will cost life, love, blood, and limb most times. Power can be extremely seductive above all things. It binds you to its force, eclipses you into servitude. I have mastered the powers that I have obtained over the years, and even as I stand before you, a willing man, I know now that I would go to war with the entire galaxy just to keep you." 

Her fist swung towards his face, but he dodged her, catching her wrist and reeling her into his body. Her breasts thudded against his pectorals, and as he lowered his lips to stay near hers, he felt the overwhelming urge to maul her. He wondered what soft beauty lay beneath that dress, what luxurious small folds waited, and glistened between her thighs. Deep inside, there was an animalistic conscience growing. He hungered for her in ways unimaginable to her, and as he kept her close, something entered the room. A black shadow floated and stretched across the floor. His lips were about to ravage hers, but a servant droid interrupted the moment it came into full view.

"The officiate has arrived, Chancellor. Shall I escort you and your bride to the chamber?"

The electronic voice broke the tension, but very vaguely. Her heart was perturbed and she felt her pulse grow erratic. She was approached then by the droid, but without even looking at the machine, she crushed it. Her mind compacted it with power. Metal parts fell to the floor and the canisters that held its oils fell as well and shattered. Once the droid was dismantled violently, she turned around and made her way towards the main suite. Palpatine was enamored with her hatred of him. As she left, he began to speak to her even though his lips did not move.

_If the time ever comes, you shall be more than my lady wife. You will be an empress and I the master, and whatever fate has in store for us, we shall rule together. I sense the hate within you and it grows deliciously. But, even if you choose to defy me, to go against me, I shall make you reap what you sow in more ways than one. You belong to me. You remain mine._

\---

When the time for the ceremony came, they left his apartments and adjourned to the Senate Building. They ventured into the inner belly of the Grand Convocation Chamber side by side. The whole of the building was completely empty, save for themselves and two others. They stepped aboard a repulsorpod after walking through the doors, and they grew ever closer to the podium. It was a private ceremony, as the only souls inside were herself, Palpatine, the two Neimoidians. She could not see the officiate yet, but she knew that these green-skinned males were witnesses. The inside of the chamber seemed so vast when completely emptied, and the pods hovered, their electronic whirring making a clear resonating tone. As she stood upon the podium then, the train of her gown hid her feet and made her seem a ghost. She felt dead inside, she felt more or less nothing. The coldness of the surrounding steel chilled her. She felt ashamed in giving her word to marrying him, but she promised. She had done it for the sake of the one who had betrayed her, hadn't she?

Palpatine walked to the side and the two Neimoidians stood behind him. Their matted red eyes showed no interest in her, but rather for the event taking place. They seemed curious. She wondered if they believed she would go through with it, to see if she was true to her word. She looked away and closed her eyes, hoping, wishing for it to all be over with. As the groom prepared himself, the two witnesses unraveled a black velvet box. Once opened, a dagger shined within its confines. Víariya's heart grew restless. _Let it be the time he kills me. I don't want to be his wife, but I promised. If he were true and honest about killing me, let him follow through on his word as well. I don't want to live anymore._

She was about to reach for the dagger, but the sound of the doors opening to the chamber once more startled her. She felt her palm grow cold, her fingers turn limp. Another repulsorpod entered the vast atmosphere. She tried to look at the figures from over her shoulder, but Gunray, in his usual stance, pulled her closer to stand beside her betrothed. A Chagrian stood in the middle of the podium after stepping off the opposite pod. As he passed her, she saw and noticed the other man who had accompanied him. Robes of pale ice blue and dark navy clad the figure and the now all-white hair stood upon his head, illuminating the broken blue irises he had. She felt her throat tense as the two men joined them. The Chagrian held onto his staff and banged it once on the podium floor. The ceremony was beginning at last.

Palpatine stood there looking at his bride, and she felt the viciousness upon her; she felt his stare at her lips, her throat, her breasts. She dreamt that she was dying and how she wished for it to be real. The Chagrian, as she knew him to be, now began to deliver an oration. 

"To all present, hear this. We are gathered here, not to witness the beginning of what will be, but of what already is. We do not create this marriage, because we cannot undo what has been done. Here in the sight of those who are Naboo, Chagrian, and Neimoidian, we are here to bind this man and this woman in matrimony. I, Mas Amedda, join here these two as man and wife. Who comes to claim this woman?"

The Chancellor wasted no time in answering. "Sheev of House Palpatine."

Amedda continued. "And who comes to claim this man? Who gives her away?"

Palpatine turned to face her. He saw how quiet she was, how shamed and defeated. She shivered and could not find the will to speak. She tried to open her lips, to force words to come, but none did. Another answered for her, and as he spoke, tears fell from her eyes as he brought her to face Palpatine.

"I, Finis of House Valorum, come to give away Víariya of House Anrínu in place of her father. I act as a guardian, for hers has passed away."

She felt a twinge of fear for her soul as she heard his words. Her hands found her heart and her eyes developed bright tears, her breath now quivering. Shock and disbelief stabbed her and coursed through her blood as if they were nothing. "What?"

Amedda inquired further. "Her own father has died? How?"

Valorum's head hung lowly. He did not look Amedda in the eye but replied still. "He seized at his home. Upon being watched by four of Coruscant's guards, he was murdered in a home invasion. I recently discovered an assassination plot against his life, and I failed in providing adequate protection to one of Coruscant's greatest senators. So, I have come in his stead to give the bride away." 

Her voice ripped through the air with a violent outburst. "Lies! My father is not dead! I sent him home to be safe. He... he cannot be dead. You lie!" 

It was Palpatine who now held her back from striking Valorum. He wrapped his arms around her and hushed her as she closed her eyes. She turned, buried her face in his throat, and wept. He was astonished at her, and so was Valorum. Amedda continued with his general disillusioned tone.

"Do you, Sheev of House Palpatine, take this woman to be your wedded wife?"

Once more, he hardly refrained his answer. "I do."

"And do you, Víariya of House Anrínu, take this man to be your wedded husband?"

She removed her face from his throat and looked into his eyes. She felt her blood run cold through her, and as he moved his hands to rest on her shoulders, gooseflesh returned. The thought of her father lying dead and alone terrified her more than anything; what haunted her most was the knowledge she had sent him home, home to the very place where he died. She pictured his blood running warm through his wounds. Still, entranced by the red-haired man he had once been before, she did not object. "I do," she whispered. "I do..."

"Then," Amedda finished. "In the sight of all those present, I hereby proclaim you Lord and Lady Palpatine. Let it be known now that two houses now unite as one, and that no man, woman or force shall bring you apart. You may seal your marriage with a kiss."

Valorum turned away as he saw the Chancellor lower his head. Palpatine's lips grazed hers and he hungrily devoured her mouth; their breaths conjoined and as she became weightless almost in his arms, he kept her close, as to assure Valorum she was now his. He became a cannibalistic master, a predatory beloved almost. As their kiss lingered, she tasted the small drops of blood on his tongue. He began to frighten her, but then as those in attendance grew silent, he released her lips and cupped her chin in his fingers.

"It is time to return home, my pet," Palpatine said. "It is high time I bed my lady."

\---

Once in the red-hued apartments, he escorted her to the bedroom. It was a room now theirs, and as she entered, she stood at the foot of the bed. Her knees brushed its frame and she felt his eyes upon her spine. The white paleness of her back was turned to him, and as she felt her dress grow heavier and colder on her body, the silk of it became an ocean almost. She felt so small compared to anything and everything. He approached her then and the sound of his footsteps echoed in her ears. 

"You look enticing, Víariya."

She tried in her damned abilities to ignore him. She prayed his words would enter her ears and leave immediately. Eyes shut, she felt her lips quiver as he placed his hands upon her upper forearms again. His lips descended to her flesh and he kissed her jugular. The wetness of his tongue excited her and made her feel mortified in an instant. Wet, hot trails lingered up her vein and made its mark on her earlobe. The hot warmth pooled between her legs again and she felt breathless. A vicious rip of her bodice occurred then, and her large breasts poured out of the embroidered confines. 

"What are you doing?"

He turned her and threw her down onto their bed. His hand gripped her throat and he squeezed. Her pressure point felt weak and so did her knees. She tried to form a barrier with them against his pelvis, but as he continued to squeeze, she rasped for air and her legs went soft. Her black hair pooled around her head and he lowered his mouth to her breasts. His teeth descended upon her nipples without pause. A hard tug and the soft pieces of flesh became erect before his eyes; her areolas became a darker reddish-brown from his gnawing. His other hand went in between them and began to pull the dress down around her body. Víariya's veins were pulsating against the film of her skin and he took notice.

He moved his mouth to hers again and again, and there, she tasted her own blood. His teeth felt sharper than before, and she could feel bruising form upon her bottom lip. It would be black and blue before the end of it, and as she felt her lower lips grow wet, warm, he began to unsheathe himself from his robes. Her eyes followed the movement of his hands and she panicked. She thrashed, she tossed. Every moment she had to move, to scream, she tried.

_Let go of me, you bastard! Let me go, damn you! Please!_

Their minds remained joined and yet, his sadism refused to part with him. _No, my wife. I told you I would make you mine in more ways than one, and here I am fulfilling that promise. Now spread your legs and show me your flower._

He moved his tip against her entrance and she shuddered. It felt so chilled, so ghastly as if he were dead and non-existent. He pushed the tip into her entrance and guided it in and out, up and down. She arched her back as he bit her breast violently. His teeth distracted her pain very briefly, but then agony consumed her as he pushed into her fully. Her wetness allowed him to slide in, and as he sank past her maidenhead, the scent of blood flowed. He became engulfed by her canal, completely buried in her honey-sweet heat. She felt ashamed then of herself— the physical pain was now twisting into pleasure. Her body reacted to it in a different way than she wanted it to. She held onto him as he thrust harder, deeper. He filled her canal with his girth, and deeper he went, pushing hard, prodding her as her womb somersaulted inside her pelvis.

" _I hate you_ ," she wept. _"I'll hate you till the day I die..."_


	18. The Great Divide

In the following four weeks that came and went, she grew more tired in her life. Her body ached as it always did, and in the evenings of their violent, passionate 'lovemaking,' she would always feel his seed burrow in between her legs. She felt it running down the apex of her thighs and down the soft folds of her labia; there would always be bruising and she fathomed the images entirely. The nights when he erupted into her forever gave her night terrors. When he'd sleep, he would keep his body against hers, atop of hers; his member would be engorged inside of her small, stretched canal and she always felt pain. Tears fell then as she stared out of the window. It was finally decided that her father's funeral would take place, and while he was not cremated, his body was not seen. He had been murdered, and so, his body had been examined rather closely. He was kept on ice and preserved, if only for forensic analysis. But now, now he was finally being put to rest.

A closed sarcophagus, followed by the many martyrs of the Senate, was escorted from the building down to the necropolis of his family name. Streets flooded with people wide and far. Lanterns of white light burned and against the sad hues of blue and fading purple, the skies seemed melancholy. Blood had been unjustly shed, and she knew this to be true. As she stood on the balcony of their apartment in 500 Republica, the winds blew through her hair once more. The scent of muddled air mixed with the filtered wind, and she felt sick to her stomach then. She clutched her hand to her belly and inwardly heaved. Her throat tensed and she felt an awful aftertaste on the back of her tongue. She was tired in the earliest hours of the day, and whenever she rose, her muscles ached and her ankles were sore.

She wondered if she contracted a disease due to her choice in marrying Palpatine, and yet, she felt her body changing. Aside from his biting, her breasts were tender. Her areolas felt bruised in a continuous knead, and whenever she'd walk past a mirror, she saw that her figure was wider, more bloated. And yet, she had not received her moon blood. The moons and their cycles came, but her flow of blood did not. From the shivering she had, she felt as if something was not right. She knew nothing of the human body, as she had no mother to tell her of these things; only her father had told her of a woman's moon blood. He was now gone and she had no one to guide her. In her grief, she stepped away from the windows. She left the balcony with her bloated figure in an ache. The threads she wore slid behind her like a funerary veil, and it disguised her form. As she stepped into the newly renovated bath, she began to undress. The gown fell from her pale, chiseled shoulders onto the floor in a solemn manner. The steps that lowered into the bath were warm against her aching feet as she entered the waters. She sat down inside and felt her body become submerged in the waters. Her hair floated around her shoulder blades, and she felt a strange sensation burrowing into her abdomen. She felt... _full_. Not as if she had consumed too much, but as if something were there, growing, thriving. Her eyes shot wide open then as she realized what she had thought of it all. 

Her head immediately cocked to the side and staring into the mirror, she stood up and saw her brazen nudity. Her hips had become more pronounced since she tried to starve herself. She had lost the willpower to eat, to drink and breathe ever since the death and betrayal of her father. She looked closely in the mirror and turned to the side. In her lithe, trembling form, she felt the presence of life within her womb. She almost collapsed against the side of the bath from pure fear.

_"No, no, please no."_

She escaped the bath and went to put on a fresh robe. She understood then why she felt so different, why she felt so ravenous most times but refused to eat. It hadn't been clear to her until then, but in the past four weeks of him taking her, seducing her and marking her as his, it became all too clear. In her heart, fear was instilled and she grew confused. If she told anyone outside of her trust zone of this, she would be in grave danger. She knew fully of how despised and revered the Palpatine family was.

From the talks she had heard of Cosinga Palpatine in her younger years, she knew how much of an ignorant bureaucrat he was. Even her own father had made it a point to avoid Cosinga. She knew not of the fate of her new father-in-law, and it burned her mind inside, her mind growing ever curious. Still, she wished to know the fate of this life, for, in reality, it was her life at stake. Racing to dress, she threw on whatever dark robes she could find. With the light of Coruscant fading, she wished to go to those she knew would have answers— the Jedi Council.

\---

The fortress seemed grave and vast on the outside. The towering crown of five spires stood out to her more than anything else, and to her, they seemed to be like dark swords piercing the atmosphere of the night skies. The feeling of solemn contemplation flowed through her, and as she began to make her way up the steps, her head hung low and her heart was heavy. She wore a hood over her braids and concealed her identity. The guard of 500 Republica did not know she had escaped through the secretive elevators that had been built into the back of their apartments. As her robes trailed behind her, others around the temple watched her. She felt neither welcomed or opposed, but she felt a somnolent obeisance course through her. She saw pairs of younglings walking up and down the steps, and as she walked through the front doors, she saw padawans and their masters silently meditating, moving about. All their focus was quiet and yet, none dared to stare at her. For that, she was ever grateful.

When she entered, she marveled at the great architecture inside. It was comprised of a cavernous main hall, which stretched to what she presumed to be a greater hall. Soaring mezzanines stretched as far as she could see, and as she felt confused and lost in the great stone labyrinths, she was approached then by one she knew to be important. He carried himself rather boldly, yet he was mindful of what he was. His brown and tan robes flowed around him and she saw that at the hilt of his belt, there sat a lightsaber. She bowed her head in respect and swallowed hard. The pain in her throat only grew the moment he approached her. Blue eyes stared into hers and he tilted his head curiously. His Stewjon accent entered her ears, and he folded his hands together, the sleeves now hiding them completely.

"Who are you, my lady? Are you looking for someone?"

Víariya's pale fingers pulled her hood back. Her eyelashes hid her timid browns, and as she swallowed once more, her voice crackled. "I am here seeking the highest member of the Jedi Council. I need guidance in matters which I do not understand. Please, it is imperative I see someone."

The young man before her returned the nod and bade her join him. "Please, follow me. While the rest of the Council members are away, I do believe our Grand Master is still here. I will escort you to meet him."

Eagerly, she followed behind. Stones of ancient grey and mortar held very little cracks, and as she felt the dim air circulate through the caverns of halls, she felt uneasy even though she was not in immediate danger. The two walked through numerous halls until they came upon the council chamber. The doors opened and she was ushered inside with silence and calmness in the air. A gentle feeling surrounded the atmosphere. It was a place of peace and meditation, of solitude and support she walked into. As she was left alone, the doors closed behind her once more. Turning to face the front, she saw a circling row of chairs all around her. They were all emptied, save for one.

"Forgive me for disturbing you," she began, her voice small and meek. "But there is something at work here I do not understand, and I only wish to be guided, to have help provided to me. I ask most humbly for your support, Grand Master."

As the night skies shone outside of the vast windows, the stars shined and faux lighting was provided. She saw a small figure sitting in the middle seat, and as she stepped closer, she saw the figure wore a small grey robe. The shortened being had green skin, long, pointed ears that stretched to the sides, and ridges upon the forehead were pronounced. The three-fingered hands it had held onto a small wooden cane. Víariya took great notice of this and knelt down to the floor in respect. She held her lower abdomen and felt something brush her nape. The very vocal cords in her throat tightened. She was terrified, she was afraid. She did not know what this Grand Master would say, but no matter what, she would respect it. She did not believe highly in either sect, but she would abide by his sayings.

Suddenly, the figure opened his eyes and began to speak rather oddly, as if backward. "To the chamber of the Jedi High Council, welcomed are you. Speak your name, won't you?" 

She rose her head and spoke plainly. "I am Víariya Anrínu. I come here seeking your help, Grand Master. I am worried that my life is in danger and I am frightened of the one to whom I am married."

The small green male stepped down from his seat and slowly, with a limp to one of his legs, approached her with his small voice grunting. Very old he was, and he seemed docile and wise, farther beyond anyone's years. A cane helped to hold him up as he steadied himself in her direction.

Once he was close to her, she knelt on her knees and shyly awaited his words.

"Know better I than that. Lady of Palpatine's house you are. The wedding I heard mention of from a source loyal to this council. Married now to the Chancellor, you are. I see the troubles you have. What help can I give, young lady?"

"Grand Master, in the evenings when my husband returns from the Senate, he hurts me. He bruises me, takes me, and does horrible things with his body to mine. I fear that he has caused an unnatural change in me. What should I do?"

The sullen creature gently put his hand to her belly and closed his eyes. His fingers touched her very gently as if to cradle and nurture what was inside. She was not threatened by this and in reverse, she welcomed his observations. All sense of dread left her. She knew she was safe here in the temple, and more so in the presence of this Grand Master. It was then that his little voice entered the room again.

"Blood of light and dark I sense in you. It grows within. Care you must for this child. Hope you are for it alone, and protect it you must from him. The child will not turn to the Dark Side. He will remain as light as you are."

"What? You truly mean that I'm—?"

"With child, yes. A mother you are to be."

Her heart dropped within the confines of her chest. She feared it and she knew it to be true. The seed her husband had erupted into her had burrowed into her womb. It had delayed her moon blood and stopped it from coming, and so it was no wonder her body had changed with the moons. Víariya's collarbone ached from cold felt on the inside, and as she lowered her head, tears fell to the Council floor.

"Oh please, it cannot be. I can't possibly be a mother. He raped me and now I am to carry his child? What kind of punishment is this?"

The Grand Master christened Yoda, stood beside her, and began to pat her head. He soothed her with his small green fingers, and as he lulled her, she grew calm. He began to murmur to her, and in a grandfatherly tone, he spoke.

"Palpatine I have heard is deceiving. If what say you is true, then he is dangerous. But if you wish to live, and to have a child of health be born, then away from Naboo and Coruscant you must give birth. For your safety and the child's, this is the way. Go and retrieve your things, lady dear. Go to someone who will help you away safely. It will happen in good time. May the Force be with you."

\---

When she returned, she wasted no time. Her heart's palpitations roamed through her vividly, intensely, and as she hurried along through the bedroom, she began to gather her belongings. Her most inconspicuous dresses were gathered, same for her robes; she wanted her clothing to be plain, to be as untraceable as possible. She did not care about social status or luxury. She cared about life. Her life, the life of her unborn child— they were the only two who mattered now. Nothing here in Coruscant mattered anymore. For now, it was a necropolis to her. Her father had died upon the planet, and she was raped in the city. She was perhaps foolish in marrying Palpatine, and for that, she wondered if this pregnancy was the answer for a punishment. As she continued to fold her gowns away, to then pack her plain dresses into a chest, she heard something open behind her. Her head did not crane all the way to look over her shoulder, but her eyes followed the noise. She was bent over at the bed, her hands over the chest. 

She could not move due to fear. Her throat ached and her muscles felt aflame. Everything from her fingertips to her labia to her feet felt as though flames were licking at them. She stood upright very slowly. She couldn't bring herself to face him, but she knew it had to of been him. Who else would enter their bedroom without announcing themselves? Víariya mustered enough stamina and courage to face the door. Slowly, she turned around and saw him standing there with violent tears in his own eyes. The silver-white of his hair seemed faded in their own strands, and it made him seem ghastly like a Rancor prepared to strike with sharpened nails. He stood in their bedroom doorway, appalled.

"I didn't want to believe it," he said, his fists now whitening. "I didn't want to believe that my wife would willingly abandon me so easily. Have I not kept you safe from Coruscant's perpetrators? Have I given you to common thieves, murderers, smugglers? No. I married you to keep you safe, my dear. And now my wife wants to leave me. How is this possible?"

She backed against the bed and covered her breasts with her arms. She shook her head and spat back with hate in her voice. "You have raped me. You have harmed me, and if anything, to deal with smugglers and the lower criminals of the Coruscant underworld would be a blessing. I married you as a fool would. I married you to keep my family safe. But you had my father killed, didn't you? You were the one who had him attacked in our home and slaughtered, didn't you? How did he die?" 

Palpatine's tongue traced against his lower lip. He gnashed his teeth together as he stepped inside. Her body seized and could not move, and she carefully watched his steps. The proximity between them was now growing desolate, derelict. Their isolated situation was no more than a show to him. As he stepped to her, meeting her face-to-face, his hands gripped her upper forearms and squeezed hard. He pulled her to him and his eyes moved frantically to either side as he stared her down. His breath was on her lips and he whispered vicious words to her.

"You wish for me to incriminate myself, don't you? You wish to have me admit these kinds of deeds to you aloud so that you feel some kind of vindication, don't you? Even if I have to chain you naked to my body, you will not leave. Whatever that Grand Master told you, it is folly. You belong to me and you will die with me. Any other kind of life you wished for is gone. Do you understand me, my pet? I am your husband, and if I have to slaughter every man, woman, and child in this galaxy just to keep you, I will."

Her anger overthrew her now. It was not a wave of anger that lusted for power, but one that wished to fight for the right to live, to protect. Her eyes shifted into a translucent white and with her strength, she used her telekinesis. The force of a jolting, violent outburst grew and suddenly began to choke him without the physical presence of her hand at his throat. His eyes bulged as she manifested all her hate into the choke. As he released her hands, he tried to move back from her, clasping at his throat. Her anger manifested as clearly and as strongly as he did. She was not in the moment of weakness, and he knew this. Palpatine's own strength thrust itself against her. She was lunged back against the bed, and when she broke her concentration, he charged her. Once he stepped forward, the back of his hand contacted her jaw. Blood welled to the surface and she fell back unconscious. 

He saw that his wife was now lying there unprotected, and somehow, his anger manifested into hurt, into betrayal. He wanted to maul her and hurt her, twist her and contort her to his own design. But deep down, he felt the presence there. It was her essence that persuaded him to let her live. However, he stalked towards the bed and crawled atop of her, pinning her down with each knee on either side of her hips. His hands were on her wrists, and as her head lay craned to the side, he spoke with a damning tone.

"I sentence you to exile then. If you will not entertain me here as my faithful wife, by my side, in our bedroom, and in all matters, then I will sentence you to live the remainder of your days in prison. In your chambers, I will visit you, and I will be watching you, remaining inside you. If anyone tries to free you or make you theirs behind my back, dire consequences will occur. For now, I will call upon the guard to come to arrest you. Remember— _there is no escape from the Dark Side_."


End file.
